


Affinity

by MRXI (ScarlettMadridista)



Category: Football RPF, Sports RPF
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - High School, Anal, Blow Jobs, Drugs, Gay Sex, Hand Jobs, High School, I can't be assed to list them all, M/M, School Projects, Sex, Sports, Underage - Freeform, etc - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-31
Updated: 2015-09-27
Packaged: 2018-03-09 20:44:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 12
Words: 75,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3263789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScarlettMadridista/pseuds/MRXI
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>High School AU</p>
<p>The pupils of München Comprehensive are deep into the ever lasting winter term, boredom set in a long time ago, and now school seems to be the most hated place on the planet. But this doesn't strictly mean that nothing eventful ever happens...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Are Mondays That Bad?

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to München Comprehensive, would you like a piece of rope to go with that chair?
> 
> See the end of chapter for notes.

Marco sat at the back of the class, in his usual seat, his legs prompted up on the table while he chewed on the top of his pen lid. Well, there was nothing better to do, and he was right, unless you found the Shakespearean language of _Hamlet_ interesting that was. But, then again, he didn't think that anyone from this time understood a word of the play, it was Old English after all. His thoughts on the matter were significantly strengthened as he glanced around the class, seeing most people either staring mindlessly at the screen, face down on their desks - probably sleeping - or doodling in the copy of the play they were given.

Even Mats, that was sat next to him, seemed to be in a trance of drawing oddly shaped stars and swirls along the border of his booklet. 

How school could be this boring was beyond Marco.

As a kid, he loved school, he'd wake up every morning, even before his mother, and would be bouncing off the walls by time they left. His little Spider-man lunchbox, bottle and padded coat - not forgetting the wellies - all packed and on and ready to go. He used to love the journey's to school, a spring in his step as he'd run off with his best friend Marcel with his mother worrying all the way there. Upon reaching the gates of his primary school, he'd beam with the biggest smile before running inside after hugging his mother, and probably have, what he considered, to have the best day of his life.

Where had all that joy gone in his life?

He knew exactly why and where the moment he started high school, or as he liked to call it "Hell on Earth". High school took the fun out of everything Marco had ever loved; up earlier every morning, 7 lessons a day, massive amounts of coursework, and the pressure of teachers on pupils. There was no joy in it anymore. 

The only thing that Marco didn't mind was the uniform and his mates - and maybe one of the teachers Jürgen Klopp, who taught Art and Media. Marco's mates, and one in particular, was probably the reason he dragged himself out of bed every morning to even turn up to this hatred place. The uniform consisted of a white shirt, black trousers, burgundy tie and black blazers with the school's badge on - and black shoes of course. To be honest, Marco liked it for not only it's smartness but also the fact that it made him look fit as hell, and some of the girls thought so too. There was no denying that Marco liked looking after his appearance, especially with the way his blonde hair was swept back into an undercut hairstyle. 

His thoughts on the matter were rudely interrupted as he felt a vibration in his trouser pocket, making the chewing on the pen lid come to a stop. Glancing up at his English Literature teacher Hansi Flick, to make sure that his focus was solely on the film and not on the pupils, and thankfully it seemed that that was the case. In fact it seemed that Herr Flick was so engrossed within the movie that he was even mouthing the words. His eyes rolled, how can someone be _that_ into Shakespeare? 

Anyway, seeing that it was all clear, the blonde delved his hand into his pocket and produced his phone, seeing that he had a text from Mario. A smile immediately greeting his lips as he opened it up.

_Marioo B):_ _Wanna come over tonight? My parents are going out and I don't want to have to look after Felix by myself :(_

_Marco :P : As long as you have the new Zombie game and we can order pizza, I'm in *monkey emoji* ;)_

Marco let a small chuckled, quiet enough to be heard by Mats next to him but thankfully not the teacher, out as he answered, before putting his phone back in his pocket and out of sight of the teacher who was now standing. He took a quick glance up to see Herr Flick staring at him with a raised eyebrow, signalling that he was not happy with Marco's behaviour, but he just rolled his eyes in answer, crossing his hands over his chest. He really could not care if his teacher wasn't impressed with Marco not paying attention to the film, it was a stupid one that he couldn't understand, and plus, he did not even like this class.

English Literature was the most lamest excuse for people to slag off books. Saying how the words wrote by the author represented madness or how woman were oppressed in such a patriarchal society during the Elizabethan era. Bullshit if you ask Marco. A book (or play) was just that, something that someone wrote to entertain readers and make money out of, there was no hidden meaning, no analysis needed. Words were words, there was no deeper meaning than that. 

A few seconds later, he felt a tap on his shoulder and upon arching his head back, he saw his teacher, standing behind him with a very disapproving look upon his face. _Great_ , he thought, _I'm going to lose my phone for the rest of the day now, well done Marco._ Yet, to the German's surprise, that wasn't the reason for Flick's appearance, instead, the well dressed educator mentions to how Marco was sitting, with his feet on the table. 

"Feet down Mr Reus, have some respect for the furniture." He stated, albeit in a whispered tone, not to distracted the other pupils from "enjoying" the film. Marco followed his teachers instructions and brought down his feet from the table, sliding down in his chair further though. Herr Flick seemed to ignore the boy after that and took a seat back at his desk, finally leaving Marco alone.

Though Marco sighed in relief over the fact that he still had his phone, his phone was his life. "Fucking knob." Marco uttered, shaking his head.

"Ain't that right." Mats whistled from beside Marco, copying my posture and crossing his arms. Marco turned to look at the boy beside him, who was giving a a closed mouth smile, his eyes squinting in haze at the same point. A smile that only a stoner would have the power of pulling. The younger blonde wasn't half wrong either, he'd seen that smile plenty of time from the older boy with dark brown curls cascading over his forehead, and it wasn't just on him, but himself. "Psst..." Came the whisper a few seconds later, Marco did not answer. "Marco?" Mats nudged his shoulder, in order to get attention.

With a sigh, Marco reluctantly turned to his older friend. "What is it?" He muttered, now twirling his pen around his fingers as a drummer would with his drum sticks, and finding something calming about it.

Mats chuckled, answering; "You want to come snowboarding two weeks Friday? The seniors are organising a trip to Garmisch-Partenkirchen, and Miro asked me to ask some of you if you would like to come, end of term kinda thing y'know?" As he finished, Marco heard a crumple of paper underneath my desk before it hit his hand, making him frown, though he grabbed it, pulling it out to see what it was.

On the piece of paper was a picture of the Zugspitze mountain with prices and a few tacky stars with 'Seniors Ski Trip!' wrote in the middle. His frown grew deep, making his light coloured eyebrows seemed to be knitted together. "It say's Seniors only Mats, are you high?" Marco glanced at the older man, seeing that same stoner smile as before. "Why did I even ask that?" He muttered, already knowing the answer.

"Fuck just Seniors man, there's hardly any of us, oh and it's only the guys as well." Mats winked, pulling his grey beanie over his head. "C'mon, it's only for five days, and it's €50,00 all inclusive, the skiing, the hotel rooms, the food. It's a bargain man, easy money." The brown haired guy, nudged Marco's shoulder a little too hard, causing him to nearly fall out his seat, though he managed to stop himself. "Oh and if you bring some extra cash, I'll be sure to throw in a bag of the good stuff, make it more enjoyable. You get me?"

Marco stared at Mats, a little shocked at is forwardness. "Yeah I get you Mats, but €50,00, I haven't got that kind of money, I only get €20,00 in allowance a week!" He said, a little higher than a whisper, yet Herr Flick was too engrossed in the film to realise otherwise. "How am I supposed to get €50,00 in less than two weeks?"

"There's easy ways." Shrugged the Senior, a devilish smile playing on his thin lips.

"I'm not stealing it, nor am I doing what you're thinking. That was once before and I was baked, no thanks to you and your "special brownies"." At that Mats giggled and lent one of his arm on the back of Marco's chair.

His hand coming to rest on the younger boys shoulder slightly. "Fine, I don't care how you get the money, and spread the word to your friends. Hey maybe you can bring your fuck boy along with you, what was his name again? Götze?"

"It's Mario, and he's not my fuck boy, he's just a close friend okay?" Marco defended, though Mats seemed to be having none of it.

Mats scratched at his growing stubble, leaning back in his chair. "Could of fooled me with all those textes." Mats winked, licking his lips in sweet victory over the blonde. Marco sighed, shaking his head and began to gently strum his fingers against the wooden paired table, right now hating the fact that he had to share the table with a guy like Mats. Don't get him wrong, Mats was a nice guy, and since moving to the school at the start of the school year from Dortmund, in the north, he'd gotten on with Mats like a house on fire. But, fuck could he be one of the biggest knobs he had ever met, no joke. And he just seemed to get worse when he was stoned. "And look, it'a snowing-" Mats mentioned to the light dusting of snow that covered the grounds of the school outside their classroom. "It won't be hard to adjust to the climate, it'll be fun."

"I'll think about it..." Marco mused, taking a glance outside himself and seeing more snow falling from the light grey sky. He thought for a second, imagining what it would be like to actually go snowboarding - something Marco had never had the chance in doing - and with his best friends. Maybe it would be fun after all, but how what he supposed get €50,00 in a week and bit before the actual trip? His parents weren't exactly rolling in money and Marco had two older sisters to compete with. 

The lights of the room suddenly snapped back on and groans from everyone in the class elected Flick to shush them all, Marco's own eyes trying desperately to adjust to the light, he was rather enjoying the darkness. Once they had adjusted properly, he searched for the clock up on the wall, checking to see what time it was; 9:45 am. Another hour and fifteen before the lesson ended, too long for a class of pointless English Literature. 

_Remind me again, why I thought taking this subject was a good idea?_ He thought, shaking his disappointed. This lesson had been fun back at his old school in Dortmund, mainly because the teacher was smoking hot with big breasts, that had to fake, but who cares.

"Hümmels remove your hat please, last time I checked it was snowing outside not in." Flick abruptly spoke in a stern tone of voice. Mats grumbled something next to me, no that I could make it out, and removed his beanie anyway, letting it drop to the desk in front. However, it did not seem like Flick was finished there and his next target - unbeknownst to him - was Marco. "Reus, anything more fascinating that Shakespeare happening out there?"

Marco's head snapped around at the sound of his name being called, and only then did he realise that he had be aimlessly staring out of the window for the past few minutes, thinking about the trip. "Uh-uh no Sir." He managed to stutter, his cheeks warming, seeing all eyes on him.

Herr Flick nodded his head, picking up the old text box of _Hamlet_ he had been reading to the class, and flicked through a few pages, before speaking again. "Good then, now Marco, can you tell me what Hamlet mans by "Frailty, thy name is woman" and why Shakespeare has incorporated this into the text?" A raised eyebrow in question.

The blonde stared back at his teacher with the frightful expression on his face. He had heard that quote before, he was sure of it, he could even remember highlighting it and annotating it wit the text underneath, yet, right now, all thoughts had left him. He looked over his own copy of the play and flipped through the pages, trying desperately to find where it was located. And in all fairness, after about the fifth page, Marco did not have a clue.

But one thing he did have a clue about was how he couldn't wait to get out of this class and see Mario again, he'd know how to cheer him up from this torture. And that thought alone, brought a smile to his face. "Reus, stop smiling like a Cheshire cats asshole and answer my question for heavens sake!" Flick snapped. 

Did he mention how much he loved this school? Yeah, he didn't think so.

\---

Thomas was chomping away at the peanut butter and banana sandwich his mother had made for him this morning, a weird combination to say the least, yet it seemed to work for him and made him happy. The taste was divine on his palate, the smooth texture and subtle taste of the banana mixed with the crunch and strong flavour of the peanut butter, all laying between two pieces of homemade rye bread, finished the job properly. Thomas fancied himself a decent cook - would explain why he enjoyed home economics so much - and could whip up some of the most complicated dishes easily. Hence, one of his ambitions in life, to become a Michelin Star chef, with a chain of restaurants across Germany.   

His friends always chuckled at Thomas and his "over active imagination" whenever he voiced his opinion about a future career. This ambition, however, was as real as it got. For as long as he had known, he had loved food more than anything else, he'd eat anything and everything, and was not afraid to try new combinations. But also took in the words of his friends - "you change your mind on what you want to be every single week!" - and that was a fair enough common, because it was true. One week he would want to be a professional footballer and the next a snowboarding champion. 

Cuisine was different th-

"For fuck sake Thomas, will you learn how to eat quietly!" Benedickt snapped next to him, throwing his pen down to the dining table. "I have a test next lesson and I'm trying to revise for it but all I can hear is you slapping your chops together next to me." Benedikt's blood was boiling, and Thomas noticed how red his cheeks and tips of his ears had become in the anger he was expressing, though stayed silent and chewed slower. He didn't bother apologising because, for one, he didn't even think he was making that much noise, and second, Benni was angry at every, constantly.

Of course, Thomas was the biggest chatter box in the world, but he was just eating, he didn't know he did it so loudly. 

Maybe he did everything loudly, he wasn't sure. half the time, he didn't even know he was that loud until his friends complained that he needed to shut the fuck up, which was probably the most used phrase when Thomas was around. He couldn't help it, being loud was a part of being Thomas Müller.

Anyway, trying his hardest, Thomas started to take little nibbles of his sandwich, keeping his mouth shut as he chewed, not able to enjoy the flavours just in case Bennie shouted at him for that as well.

Thomas was not a shy guy in any sense, especially around Benni, however, with Benni in such a foul mood it was better to save his tongue than have it bitten off by the young golden blonde.

There soon came a whistle that started to get closer by the second and that could mean only one person. "Wow Benni, I could hear you all the way from the serving counter, what's the matter, got another stick up your ass?" Benni didn't bother dropping his pen or shouting this time, instead, he went for the silent death stare, aimed specifically at Andre, who had just taken a seat across from him. "What? Don't stare at me like that, you look like Satan." Andre chuckled at his own comment, as he delved into his bag and pulled out a chicken mayonnaise and salad baguette he had just bought from the counter, wrapped in a paper covering.

Great, that's all that Benni needed right now, more people eating with noisy wrappers. Well, it is technically his own fault really, he had fallen asleep revising last night and had a full scheduled day so the only time he could find in which to revise was at the lunch break. Meaning that he was surrounded his friends who were talking loudly, laugh and either chewing or throwing food across the table, leaving Benni in a bad mood, and not helped by the fact that he felt a migraine on.

"What you doing anyway? Was Thomas annoying you?" Andre asked again, distracting Benni from his train of though. Benni snapped back from hunching over his text book and looked up at his friend, a deadpan expression etched over his face. Which only seemed to make Andre raise his eyebrow, taking a bite of his baguette in the process.

Benni sighed, seeing that the expression was getting nowhere with him, and answer irately. "If you must know, I'm revising for a test next lesson on the neural and hormonal explanations of human aggression. There happy? Now can I get back to working?"

His fellow blonde nodded but it was clear that he didn't understand a word that Benni had just said. "Uh...and what does that mean...in simple terms?" Though it was the same guy that answered.

"Psychology shit with Schneider." Marco answered and it was the first time that Benni had noticed his presence, glancing up slightly as the other gave him a crooked smirk in return. Benni studied the guy sat seat over and opposite him, seeing how his blazer was crookedly placed over the back of his chair, tie loosened and sleeves of is white shirt rolled up to his elbows.

He also noticed how unhindered Marco seemed to be, laughing and smiling, which made him frown. No text books out in front of him, no worries, no stress, it was almost like he did not care about the test next lesson. "Aren't you going to revise Marco? The test will predict the grade you'll get on your exam."

Marco chuckled, shaking his head. "Nah, I've got all the answers up here-" He pointed to his head, giving is forehead a tap. "Plus, psychology's just common sense anyway." Marco shrugged, taking one of Andre's potato chips, crunching on it loudly.

Benni did not know why, yet, what Marco had said had infuriated him, how could someone turn round and say that ALL psychology was just a bunch of common sense? Were the explanations common sense? Did people just know the levels of dopamine and serotonin that were associated with aggressive behaviour? Did people just know the names of every study that was ever done? No was the simple answer. And Benni voiced this. "Common sense?..." Marco nodded proudly, riling him up further. "Common sense? Marco not the whole of psychology is based on common sense! You have to learn different techniques, different explanation, studies, everything that is wrong with the human mind, the only aspect that is common sense through the whole of the subject is bloody perception, which is one of the easiest ones in there!"

The table fell silent after Benedikt's little outburst and so did the table a few meters away from them. Only them did Benni realise that through the course of his rant, he had stood up and started to shout, loud enough for most of the dining area to hear him. Embarrassed and now with bright red cheeks, like beetroot, he took a seat again, bowing his head and returning to his revising. No one said anything on the matter after that. Marco, Thomas and Andre shared a few glances with each other that screamed Benni was losing it.

That was what the stress of school pressure can do to you though.

It wasn't until Mario came bounding over, late of his class, did another word get spoken. That cheeky smile on his lips as always, as he placed his bag on the table and place himself in the free seat next to Marco, who was ecstatic to see the younger one. Mario apologised for being late as he delved into his bag, looking for the half eaten chocolate bar he had. "So, what are we all talking about?"

"Apparently, and this is just going out on a limb here, but Benni is turning insane and we really think he needs some psychological help." Andre explained, making the whole table - except the one that was being talked about - break out in laughter.

Mario's laughter was deep and meaningful, and music to Marco's ear. It was like heaven on earth to him, every time he heard such a sweet giggle. So sweet that Marco could nearly taste it on his lips, his heart swelling ever so slightly as he glanced beside him at the man that had first made the sweet noise. Their eyes latched together and Marco felt this overwhelming sensation in the pit of his stomach, though he was not sure on what it was. He just stared at the young brunette beside his, watching how chubby his cheeks could become, and how the creases next to his eyes when he did smile made him look _that_ more irresistible. Mario always smiled with his teeth showing and right now was no different. His purely whites were lined perfectly in his mouth and the way the lights off the ceiling made them shine like little diamonds, memorising Marco further. Though Mario's face always seemed to shine. Even in the way that his usually dark chocolate brown iris' caught the light made them seem so light and God like, that Marco was having a hard time controlling himself in front of Mario.

Marco could not help but admire his best friend, not for his beauty but his personality too. Over the time Marco had been in Munich, he had become closer and closer with his younger friend, even if there was two years between them. They seemed to spend every waking day with each other and they just could not get enough. When Marco had moved all the way from Dortmund to the other end of the country, he had to admit it was stressful, he had never lived anywhere else but Dortmund and it was something that shook him up a little. Marco was miles away from his real home, however, with Mario's presence he made him feel at home here in Munich, which Marco was grateful for.

They finally pulled their gaze away from each other, which seemed to go on forever, though had only been a few seconds in the end. Marco gulped heavily, his palms sweaty as he rubbed them on his trousers, lost in his own thoughts. 

It was no secret to himself that Marco thought that maybe there was something more to their relationship than just being friends. He knew that his feeling towards this brunette was more than just on a friendship level, Marco had never felt this way about any of his friends before, men or women. What he felt with Mario was on another level to anything else. His heart swelled more just thinking about this all, it wasn't usual for him but it wasn't unusual either. He didn't care about the gender of the person that he fell for, he fell for their personality, of course their looks, and how that person makes them feel alone. 

They didn't have a normal friendship; Marco and Mario, it was different compared to Benni and Julians or Benni and Thomas' - seeming that Benni was probably the most annoying OCD control freak you'll ever meet in your life - and it was one that could get "weird" and "not right at all", as one of Marco's older sister's Melanie had said when she caught them cuddling underneath a blanket as they watched the Champions League Final. They did not take that much notice of Marco's sister though, they didn't care. 

But, what was really eating away at Marco was the fact that he didn't know what to do with these feelings he felt. In all honesty, he was scared. He suppressed these feeling as much as he could, but he knew at some point there would come a time where he wouldn't be able to, he wouldn't be able to control himself.

"Where's Erik?" Marco asked, trying to distract himself from any more worrying and over thinking the situation he found himself in. Thus, questioning his friend on Erik - Mario's "partner in crime" as Marco liked to put it, they were best friends really, the same age, same year, same class, etc - was a leeway for himself.

Mario did not answer straight away however and as Marco turned to him, he saw that the brunette was stretching out his body out and yawning. As he did, Mario's shirt rode up, showing the lower half of his stomach, also revealing the trail of darkish hair from his navel and past the waistband of his trousers, leaving the rest to the imagination. "Nah, Mr Klopp kept him behind for being a dick."

Andre laughed, crunching on his chips louder making Benni tut at the sound. "And not his partner in crime?" Marco scoffed, ruffling Mario hair, making him slap his hand away in turn, giving him daggers.

"Well, I might be an asshole, but I'm not 100% a dickhead." That statement from the young brunette made everyone around the table, even Benni, break out in laughter. Benni was trying to focus so hard on his revision again, but with the new member of the table making comments like that, he couldn't help but join in - he wasn't _that_ grumpy all the time. "And anyway, if I'm anyone's partner in crime, I'm yours bro." Mario added, winking and smirking at the blonde, who in return wrapped his arm around his friend, patting his shoulder.

The laughter from a few seconds ago was now replaced with grown by Andre, Thomas and Benedikt. "You two seriously are sick sometimes, your probably the definition of "bromance"." Benedikt remarked, rolling his eyes. Andre and Thomas slightly agreeing.

"Nah, I'd say that Lukas and Bastian are worse than these two, I mean for Christ sake, they hug and pretend to kiss constantly." Thomas chipped it, just  managing to finish the rest of his peanut butter and banana sandwich quietly, much to Benni's thankfulness. 

Andre felt the need to chip in on the matter. "Well if those to have the world gayest bromance, then these two are practically dating!" 

"No we're not!" They both snapped in unison, looking at their smirking best friend, who lightly shrugged.

Though Thomas intervened, laughing loudly and shaking his head. "I'd say their more like identical twins, they dress the same, act the same, look...okay nonidentical twins, but c'mon you guys it's fucking freaky when you don't leave each other alone."

"He has a point you guys, it can get creepy." Benni commented, taking a break from his revising, well it was near impossible to revise when there was four loud guys sat around you.

Mario argued back, trying to defend the both of them and their actions - which they did think weren't the normal etiquette for friends but they thought it was acceptable with them being that close. "We were the same clothes because we're in school genius and plus most guys in their teens act the same. You shouldn't call members of a gang gay if they dressed in the same black tracksuits, carried around knives and talked in the same slang gay would you?" This assumption always made Mario tip over the edge, he did not like it when he and Marco were talked about in that context and he knew that defending them was probably not the best idea, but he was getting frustrated, not only with his friends but himself.

Maybe there was some truth in Andre's word's somewhere, he thought, but quickly rid of it, not willing to think more about that matter. There was other times and other places where he could do that.

****After a small silence, the subjected was changed from them to something much more non-accusing.

"Well...anyway...I have something I think you guys will be interested in." Marco smirked, bouncing his eyebrow as he delved a hand into his pocket so that he could retrieved the piece of paper Mats had given to him in English Literature 1st period.

Andre, held his head. "Oh please don't tell me it's from Mats because I am pretty sure that it'll be weed."

Marco shook his head, twisting his mouth in a half hearted attempt to smile. "It is from Mats but it's not weed, he does actually carry more stuff than weed around Andre." Andre begged to differ and was about to voice that when Marco finally managed to pull out the crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket and laid it out on the table.

"What is it?" Thomas asked cluelessly.

Rolling his eyes, Marco pointed at the massive picture and tacky sign in the middle. "Well, the Seniors are going away for a trip at the end of the term and Mats said that we could come along." Marco right cheek raised in a half smirk as he looked around at his friends. Thomas, Andre and Mario were all nodding their heads, though Benni sat there with a face of stone. Marco thought it would be best to ignore him - that was probably the best thing to do when Beneidkt was like this, because he could be a right dickhead - so instead of asking him why the long face, Marco went on to explain more to his group of friends. "It's for five days, and it's €50,00 all inclusive, the skiing, the hotel rooms, the food, everything."

Thomas' eye caught the piece of crumpled paper that Marco had deposited on the table, reading it upside down and seeing the picture of the mountain he knew all too well. "It's in Garmisch-Partenkirchen?" He interrupted Andre who was expressing how much he'd love to go. Marco looked up, frowning and nodding his head. Thomas nodded back. "Oh okay."

"What?" Mario asked, leaning forward on the table just as curious as Thomas was a few seconds ago.

Thomas shrugged, his gaze becoming distant. "I won't be able to come, my parents won't let me travel that far." Okay maybe that wasn't completely the truth, Thomas had been allowed to travel to Belgium and France along before so a few miles up the road wasn't that big of a deal to his parents, they were quite laid back about where Thomas went, but they did expect a phone call every day, and made sure that he never got in trouble with the authorities. So far so good.

Seconds later, Andre bursted out laughing, smacking his hand against the table, making Thomas blush a deep crimson. "Mate, we all know how lenient your parents are, you could murder someone and they'd just shrug their shoulders-" Marco rolled his eyes at his friends exaggerations, crossing his arms over his chest as he lent back in his seat. "Seriously, Tom, it's written all over your face why you won't come. He's going to be there, he's the head boy, you're just going to have to deal with this littler, whatever it is, don't be a chicken."

"I'm not a chicken!" Thomas squeak, his posture become stiff from it's previous slumping figure.

As always Marco had to play the peacemaker, though he didn't understand how he had become that. All that he could think about was who did that job before he moved here, he was sure they probably ripped chunks out their necks beforehand. "Guys, guys, why are we fighting over this? It's a fucking trip to go skiing, not a murder trial." Mario and Benedikt smirked at each other, regarding Marco's way of handling things. "Look Miro's heading the whole thing so Thomas your just going to have to deal with it and Andre will you stop being a fucking prick and shut your face." It was a statement, not a question and Andre did just that, albeit with an annoyed expression. "Okay so Andre and Mario are definitely going, probably me too and Thomas-" Though Thomas shook his head. "Your going Thomas, I'm not having a no." The Bavarian sighed, slumped his body on his chair and looking off in the direction of the Seniors table and one man in particular. "And probably a few others...leaving Benedikt."

Benni cringed hearing his full name spoken in such a patronising tone. "I'm not going." He stated, plain and simple, everyone just stared at him, for more of an elaboration. "I don't want to be anywhere near that vile pot head, he pisses me off, you can even smell the drugs all over the paper, he was probably high when he gave it to you." Marco couldn't deny that, Mats was high when he gave him the leaflet and thus became a little skeptical if the Seniors even wanted some guys from the year blow and such coming on the trip with them. "Plus, I don't have the money."

_Me and you both_ , Marco thought we a half disappointed, half annoyed smile.

The table fell into silence after that, as if no one wanted to argue against the young golden blonde. No one actually did want to take that kind of risk. Not with the way he could be. But they all knew how much Benni detested Mats, he hated the fact that mats took school as a joy ride, smoked weed and acted like the biggest asshole that had ever walked the earth - Marco, Mario and Andre didn't really mind the guy he could be a laugh half of the time - but no one knew why he acted in disgust even in front of the guy. They were all sure there was something deeper that just what he said, but trying to ask Benni about it was impossible, he would probably bite their head off for it. 

As the silence continued, small murmurs coming from the other side of the table where Marco and Mario were, Thomas thought that it would be a safe bet to continue to eat his lunch. Thus, delving into his bag, he picked out the packet of carrot stick his mother had packed and carefully opened them, so that Benedikt didn't turn into the devil. He proceeded to take out one of the freshly cut carrot stick and bring it to his mouth, ready to take a bite.

However, as he was about to, that familiar annoyed tone from his friend beside him sounded once again. "Thomas, you dare think about eating that and I'll shove it up your ass!"

 


	2. Never Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> High School AU
> 
> The pupils of München Comprehensive are deep into the ever lasting winter term, boredom set in a long time ago, and now school seems to be the most hated place on the planet. But this doesn't strictly mean that nothing eventful ever happens...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lukas and Bastian are the definition of "bromance", they are two peas in a pod and sometimes their friends get pissed off with them both, and their antics.
> 
> Philip and Manuel, on the other hand, are having a hard time trying to find some time alone but always seemed to get interrupted.

Everyone sighed.

They were at it again, and this time, worse than ever. Did they ever stop? The simple answer was no, they never did. How they kept going for 24/7 was beyond any of the guys, but they managed it somehow, and much to everyone's annoyance. There they stood, leaning against each other, both in hysterics about something Lukas had told them and the only two that understand what it was, was them. Made sense really, half of the time, the two of them were in their own little world, miles away from everyone else.

They had even earned themselves a nickname for the way they acted together; Schweinski. Which was a mix of both their last names; Podolski and Schweinsteiger.

Most of their friends referred to them as that whenever they were together, which was every single day of the year - and sometimes, most of the guys couldn't understand how two people could spend so much time with each other and not go insane or get angry, it seemed impossible. Though, for these two, it was the norm.

Miro, Mats, Philipp, Manuel and Per were all clueless, frowning with their mouths open in confusion, speechless on what to say to what they had just heard. They all glanced at each other; Mats had a smile on his face though seemed awkward and clueless, Miro was frowning and acting professional as ever but still trying to work out how the hell what Lukas had said was funny, Philip and Manuel glanced at each other and shrugged while Per seemed to have zoned out completely, sick of listening the snorting laughter Bastian was producing.

"Don't you guys get it?" Bastian managed to hiccup out, seconds later, his face red from laughing. Lukas was still laughing hard as Bastian wrapped an arm around his shoulder, patting it slightly. All 5 of their friends surrounding them shook their heads in answer. Bastian sighed as if the joke was the simplest one on earth to understand. "Whats the cause of most lesbian deaths... hairball!" The senior just managed to pronounce before, again, bursting out in laughter, doubling over. "You get it...because...it's hairy-and they lick-" That was the end of any coherent words forming from the pair again, they were now literally on the floor, laughing their heads off about that one stupid joke.

Mats chuckled slightly, crossing his arms over his chest before frowning deeper. "Err...I don't get it." Everyone sighed in unison yet again, but this time at the tall brunette who was sitting, with his legs spread out, on the grass.

"Their basically saying women have hairy vagina's." Manuel informed, not substance to his voice at all, well, apart from disgust.

Philipp, that was standing at Manuel's side, shook his head as Lukas and Bastian continued to have laughing in front of the friends. "It's a disgusting joke, that's what is it. What's so funny about a women's private area? Nothing."

"Just shows how old they are." Per chipped in, using Philipp as an armrest, which the latter did not appreciate in any form, though Per just offered him a small smirk of his lips. Well, what was he expecting when he was that small, he was going to be used as people's personal armrest. Philip kept staring up at the tall German, with a death glare, and tried to get him to move, but to no avail, instead, he sighed, slumping his shoulders and gave in.

Guess I'm a human arm rest again, next time it'll be coat hanger, Philipp thought, looking the way of Manuel to help, but only receiving a smirk and shake of the head from the taller boy. Okay...everybody was taller than Philipp who stood at a merely 5 ft 6, probably the same size - or some times smaller - than half the girls at the school. Though, being as small as Philipp came with it's advantages, for example, when playing football, he was better equipped to dodge tackles and run faster than other, taller players, such as Per who was 6 ft 6, and the slowest, lankiest piece of shit about - in Philipps eyes anyway.

Miro stood wisely, in the background of the whole ordeal unfolding with the two baboons and let the have their cause of action with these "hilarious jokes" fizzle out. He leisurely picked one of the stray training balls up and started to do kick ups to pass the time. As much as Lukas and Bastian could be funny, sometimes they just took it to another level and turned disgusting, like right now concerning the "vagina joke". Miroslav was having a hard time understanding how anything to do with a woman's private area could be funny. In all honesty, they might be seniors, but to Miro, they were stuck in junior high, lighting their own farts or graffiting public places.

It's fair to say that out of most of the seniors, Miroslav was the most respected and matured. He knew what he was talking about, the teachers valued him as an adult and he also acted as an older brother to others, especially as head boy and captain of the football team, Miro had to set the standard high and managed to do that in style.

Nevertheless, when Lukas and Bastian managed to regain enough composure about themselves, they saw that half of their friends were unimpressed with their attempts of jokes. "Oh guys, you really are a bunch of boring fuddy-duddy's." Lukas sighed, shaking his head at the four stood around them, that did not utter a word. "Okay, okay, I'll try and find a less dirty one, to amuse you bunch of boring asses." He muttered, surfing through his phone, Bastian peering over his shoulder.

"Try the wife and dog joke!" Bastian whisper screamed into Lukas ear, leaning his arm on his shoulder once again. "That'll be about their par level of humour."

Lukas' smile grew wider with mischief as he nodded his head at his best friends suggestion. "Okay, get ready for the best joke ever, for you guys anyway!" Bastian stood, looking proud of his work, as Lukas started to read out the joke, everyone half intrigued, half expecting to be disappointed and left confused at the end. "One weekend a man asks his wife if she would like to go fishing. "No" She replies. "I'm watching TV.""Ok." he says "I will take the dog." The following weekend he asks her the same "No." She replies "I'm watching Eastenders on TV." "Ok." he says "I will take the dog." This goes on for a few weeks until one day he gets pissed off. "Look you can either come fishing, give me a blow job or take it up the arse" he shouts. She thinks for a moment and decides to give him a BJ. He then takes the dog fishing. This goes on for many weeks. "Fishing, blowjob or up the arse?" To which she always chooses blowjob and he always ends up taking his poor dog fishing. One weekend she goes down to blow him. "FUCKING HELL WHATS THAT SHITTY SMELL???" She screams. "Oh the dog didn't want to come fishing this weekend." he replies."

Lukas and Bastian looked up expecting a reaction, instead, they were met with utter silence. Their faces dropped and they both could not quite register why they did not find the joke funny, because it was hilarious.

"Fuck sake guys! Your all fucking knobjockeys! How can you not find that funny!?" Bastian exclaimed dramatically, huffing and resting his hands on his hips. "It's your level of humour and you still don't get it!" Shaking his head, he continued, both of them completely unaware of the presence behind them. "The joke is saying that the guy gave anal to his do-"

"Schweinsteiger that is enough of the foul language from you!" A booming voice of a certain someone that no pupil in the school messed with, sounded from behind the pair of jokers, making them both freeze on the spot, eye wide and shoulders clenched into their bodies.

Shit, they both thought, glancing at each other quickly. Now it all seemed to click into place for them, why none of their other friends found their jokes as funny as they id, because the whole time Coach Löw had been stood behind them, listening to their every word.

Manuel, Per and Philipp all had to control themselves from bursting out in laughter. Their coach had arrived - his clipboard in hand and whistle hung around his neck, wearing similar wear to his pupils - just as Lukas had started to tell the second joke, and stood behind the pair, listening to each and every word they said, not an expression to his face. There was no twitch of the lips up into a slight smirk, no raise of the eyebrow, no flaring of the nostrils or not a blink of an eye. Coach Löw just stared at Lukas and Bastian, waiting for the right time to jump in, like an animal catching his prey, and when he did, it was the most perfect of times, catching both boys off guard. They honestly looked scared for their lives. As Bastian stared back at the boys with eyes of fright but also screaming out to them in a way that said "you fucksters, you could of stopped me", Lukas looked like any second he was going to burst out in tears and run home to his mummy.

Coach Löw, spoke again, no emotion expressed in his face nor in his tone of voice, which made everything else that more intimidating and spine-chilling. "Both of you face me." The first command came and both Lukas and Bastian obeyed swiftly, whipping their stiff bodies around to face their coach - Lukas quickly hiding his phone behind his back in some attempt to make up for what he had told in the presence of their coach. "If I hear a single word out of you which is on that level of disgust again, I will be phoning your parents and informing them of your improper behaviour in a educational environment, you understand that?" Both boys nodded, eyes wider than ever. "Now I do not want to witness any of that kind of behaviour again, so I'm putting you on rubbish duty for the week, after school."

"Aw coach no you ca-"

Lukas went to argue against his coaches words, tough a glare quickly stopped him. "I don't care if you two have other places to be, you will be on rubbish duty for the week." Bastian opened his mouth about to add something else, and Coach Löw interrupted again, his voice as stern as ever. "It'll soon be for the rest of the year if your not careful Schweinsteiger!" That shut them both up for good and they bowed their heads. "Now, Lukas I'll have your phone for the rest of the day." Coach Löw held out his hand, signaling for him to give it over and Lukas did in a sullen flop of his hand. "Thank you." He nodded at the young boy.

Though Lukas was far from a happy state of giving proper answers back to his coach. Not only did he feel embarrassed for getting caught for something so stupid, but he had now had his phone taken off him and had to do rubbish duty for the rest of the week. This was not looking good in the eyes of his parents, getting into trouble was a problem with Lukas, and would probably mean that he wouldn't be able to go the end of term senior skiing trip. Bastian on the other and didn't really mind rubbish duty or getting in trouble, it was more the fact that he did not know his coach was there and his friends didn't tell them, that pissed him off. But, on the bright side, at least he would be with his best friend Lukas, who he could always rely on.

"Right boys." Coach Löw - after slipping Lukas' iPhone into his jacket pocket for safe keeping - focused his attention back to all of the class, which wasn't many seeming that there was not that many seniors that picked sports studies as one of their options. "Because of your teammates childish behaviour, we'll start with 5 laps of the whole field shall we?" Everyone groaned, even Miro, who hated having to do laps, he just wanted to get to on with doing the drills they usually did during the seniors training session. "No fucking moaning, get on with it!" The coach blew his whistle, directing his players to start running around the fields of the school with fierce eyes.

All the boys, including Jerome and Roman who were practicing shots in the goal area, started their laps with the rest of the boys, cursing Lukas and Bastian for being asshole's per usual.

"And Hümmels, for heavens sake will you take off that stupid fucking grey beanie! I told you it's not part of school uniform!" The coach added, seeing that Mats had pulled a grey beanie over his dark brown curls as they all started running, Löw hot on their heels.

Mats snarled, dropping his head back and sighing, his breath visible due to how cold the weather was. "But coach it's fucking cold!" Just as he started to join his other teammates in running laps, his coach came up behind him and pulled the beanie off of his head abruptly. Mats whipped around, not afraid to give his coach a mouthful, even after the way he had told Bastian and Lukas off, no one takes his favourite beanie without his consent. "Sir, give it back!"

Coach Löw just smiled slyly, holding Mats beanie up in the air and away from the tall teenager who groaned. "I'll keep hold of this until the end of the session Hümmels." The coach pushed him forward, shaking his head at how high the stupidity level of his pupils was, by three in particular, and you probably know which ones.

\---

When Philipp entered the changing rooms, he could not help but let a tired sigh from his lips, a hint of aggravation lined within it in which did not go unnoticed by Manuel. The smaller one took a seat on the wooden bench just underneath his locker which had pictures of Jurgen Klinsmann, Giovane Elber and Oliver Kahn all in Bayern kits, the local Bundesliga team that he supported. In annoyance, Philipp angrily removed his boots that were covered in more frozen grass than mud before slumping his body against the red coloured metal door, proceeding to bang his head a couple of times and sighing.

It's not that he didn't enjoy training and especially in such cold weather conditions, he loved it, it was like heaven to feel the freezing breeze of the winter capturing on both his cheeks as he ran, turning them red. But the fact that there was so many people about was something that made him hot to the core.

Philipp very much loved silence, the sound of it, the smell of it, the feeling of it, the sight of it, silence, on every level, was perfect. Even the word was perfect. He was a subdued kind of man, liked his own personal time alone, liked to watch time pass by, listening to music or watching football, or - and this was his favourite - to spend time in the arms of the one he loved.

"Hey," He felt his shoulder be nudged and quickly found a sensation filling his lungs like no ever presence had ever done before, and from that feeling alone he knew who was beside him. Philipp turned and was met by a beautiful gracing sight o a shirtless Manuel who was pouting his lips slightly, letting him know he had noticed the mood of his small - khm- friend. "What's the matter?"

Philipp felt his cheeks heating up from the sight next to him, lightly shaking his head, he sighed, staring ahead. "Nothing..." The smaller one said, shrugging his shoulders but Manuel knew that was not the truth, he was hiding something from him and he never liked it when he did that because it made Manuel worry. Thus, Manuel laid his hand on Phlilipp's knee and scooted closer to him, leaning his chin on his shoulder.

"Come on Phil, I know when there's something wrong, your not as good at hiding it as you think." Manuel stated, trying to sweet talk him into telling what was on my mind. Though Philipp shook his head, pulling away from his "friend". "Fine fine, Mr moody cow, I'm going to have a shower and you better be ready to tell me when I get back." Manuel pecked at Philips cheek as he gathered his towel and shampoo bottle, heading towards the shower. Philipp sighed, watching Manuel as he walked away and rubbing a hand over his sweaty, maybe he should of just told him.

That was one of Philipp's flaws, he was too stubborn. He wouldn't except help even if it was served to him on a dish, he'd turn his nose up to it. As he sat there, waiting for Manuel to be done with his shower - and maybe imagining what he would look like wile he was taking it, not that he hadn't seen him shower before, or even showered with him, it was just nice to leave the imagination to work wonders - Philipp, took a look around at all his, what he considered, to be friends, tapping his fingers on his forearm. Per was well, being Per and had already turned the music on his iPhone up as loud as possible and started to bob his head to the music, singing into his water bottle. Mats was busy sat in his towel and that was about it, apart from the bob of his own head and hazy smile on his lips. Lukas and Bastian were sat side-by-side, glum and annoyed, but it looked like Bastian was trying to cheer the younger one up, to no avail.

"Are you going to tell me whats wrong now?" Manuel's silky smooth voice sounded out from above Philip and as he glanced up, he saw water droplets running their way down his face and also chest, which Philip could not help but take a quick look at.

Manuel took a seat by his own little locker and started to get changed back into his school uniform, Phlipp watched on quietly, picking at his fingernails. it was now his turn to scoot closer to the other, closing the gap as Manuel buckled his belt. "Maybe, I should tell you." The dirty blonde shrugged, glancing down and noticing that he was still in his sports kit and didn't look like he would be changing out of it any time soon. "I-I just...I wish we could have more time alone, together, y'know..." He looked up, biting his inner lip and seeing a smirk on Manuel's lips as he shrugged on his blazer.

"Is that so?" He asked and Philipp nodded, looking around. "We can go back to my place if you want, my parents are working til six tonight." Manuela added, stuffing his tie into his bag, seeming that it was the last lesson of the day and he didn't need it now. Philipp proceeded to nod his head in agreement, a small smile on his lips. "Great." Manuel said in quick succession, leaning down and pressing his lips to Philipp's forehead and making the younger one blush.

After that there came a shout from a certain lanky giraffe. "Get a room!" Followed by a whistle and chuckle from Mats, who was half dressed, half asleep.

Yes, if your able to put two and two together like a normal human being, you've probably gathered that Manuel and Philipp are in a relationship, a romantic relationship. And Manuel could never see himself loving anyone as much as he loved Philipp. Though, it was no secret to the rest of their group of friends, or most seniors, Philipp still felt awkward about admitting to others that he and Manuela were a couple. It wasn't that he didn't like being seen with Manuel because he does, it was the fact that knowing that other people knew about them, made him feel very socially awkward and sometimes he felt as if he was getting judge for his sexuality. Now with Manuel, well, he simply did not care, he didn't care if Philipp was a guy or if he got judged on anything to do with his relationship with him, Manuel loved Philipp for who he was and respected some of his decisions with the matter of their relationship. For example, Philipp's parents didn't know he was dating Manuel, let alone that he was gay, in comparison to his boyfriend who's parents knew and accepted their sons choices and welcomed Philipp with open arms.

Maybe that was the problem, maybe Philipp was scared that his parents wouldn't accept their son for who he was and reject him, throw him to the streets. That was the thing that scared Philipp the most, and why he has restrained so long his sexuality.

Soon that was all forgotten about as Manuel commented back at Per's usual moaning. "Shut up giraffe, it was a kiss on the forehead, not a dick up the ass." The comment made all of the room burst out in laughter, even Philipp who did have a blush on his cheeks while Manuel winked at him from the corner of his eyes. Right then and there, Philipp couldn't wait to be away from all of these and alone with his lover, and it came sooner than he thought. Skipping a shower, he quickly rushed out of his sports kit and into half of his uniform, stuffing his tie and blazer into his bag with the rest of his things and pulling on his jacket that would protect them from the could weather outside. 

It didn't take that long to walk to Manuel's house, which was only a few blocks away from the school in a nice part of the neighbourhood, and as soon as they entered the house the warmth hit them. A welcomed feeling to their cold bodies, cold to the core form the arctic conditions outside, even if they were wearing big warm coats. Philipp fell against the radiator in the hallway after removing his shoes, feeling the warmth gradually take over his body and a happy sigh escape from his lips. His boyfriend smirked and chuckled as the sight, and took his hand, leading him into the living room, where they both collapsed onto the sofa in a tired heap. 

Philipp wasted no time in laying his head on Manuel's strong chest as the latter ran his long, slender fingers through his lovers locks slowly and peacefully. They both spent a few minutes in silence, enjoying the peace and quiet away from the over powering, noisy and hyper-ness that school presented for them both. "This feels so right..." Philipp uttered in a dream-like state, against the inviting warmth that Manuel provided, making his heart flutter. The dirty blonde closed his eyes as seconds later a deep hum of agreement came from the man beneath him, followed by the burning sensation of soft tender lips pressing against his forehead.

"It's good to finally be alone with you, I've missed doing this." Manuel whispered back deeply, referring to the fact that they hadn't been able to spend the weekend together because Manuel had to go visit his grandmother up in Gelsenkirchen, his voice sending shock waves around the younger ones body and making him glance up at his boyfriend with a bitten lip. Philipp's eyes filled with passion and so did Manuel's who cupped his cheek, leaning down from his position to lightly press his lips to Philipp's. 

As he did, Manuel could feel the sensation in his heart, making it swell and that was one mirrored in his stomach that knotted tighter like it did every time he kissed Philipp. The smaller one, from his position, managed to slip into Manuel's lap, allowing a better angle for their lips to meet and soon they found themselves in a heated embrace of lips and tongues. Limbs were entangled, as Philipp held Manuel's head in his hands, while the taller boys hands, so big and strong, wrapped themselves underneath Philipp's school shirt, slipping against the smooth skin of his waist. The dirty blonde could not help but moan into the kiss, enjoying every second of having his lover in his arms, having the burning sensation of those plump, full lips pressing against his in the same amount of passion and those big, muscular hand not gripping, but smoothing over his skin as if it was like butter, while those long, slender fingers drew circles.

They both could not get enough of each other, their lips seemed to be glued together for what felt to be an eternity, yet when they did draw their lips away, their breathes were uneven, showing how much they cherished each second spend with the other. Gently ans silently, as they laid their forehead together, Manuel flipped them over and led Philipp down on leather sofa underneath him. Philipp's head rested against plush throw pillows layered behind him. "Your so beautiful." Manuel uttered, moving a few strands of hair out of Philipp's face, his lips ghosting over the boys cheeks before connecting with the flesh of his neck.

However, the couple's affectionate moments were cut short when they both heard the sound of the front door being slammed shut and seconds later a shout. "Gay boy, I'm home!" Marcel, Manuel's older brother shouted as he walked through to the living room, after arriving him from work. Upon entering, he saw his younger brother entangled in the arms of a smaller man and couldn't help but smirk, seeing Manuel's roll of the eyes and bright cheeks. "Ah gay and gayer getting frisky I see-" He winked, throwing his jacket and car keys on the free part of the sofa. "By all means, carry on, I'm going to order a takeaway."

As soon as Marcel had left the room, all the time smirking at his younger brother, Manuel buried his face in Philipp's neck and growled in annoyance. "I'm sorry, I forgot he would be back early." Philipp giggled beneath his boyfriend, running his fingers through the short locks of Manuel's hair and kissing his forehead in reassurance.

"It's fine Manu, we all have annoying siblings." Philipp tried to reassure him. Manuel glanced up at him, resting his chin on his sternum and lightly shrugged his shoulders in answer, maybe Philipp was right, Marcel could be a horrible older brother sometimes especially when Philipp was around. And that was something that wasn't going to be passed up by Marcel today as he strode into the room, phone in hand with what seemed to be a pizzeria takeaway on the line.

"You both waning sausage on your pizza's?" He asked, knowing exactly the innuendo that came with it.

The couple sighed, Philipp closed his eyes and resting his lips against Manuel's forehead, just wishing, that for once, they could have some time alone and enjoy each others company. Yet, with their luck, they'd never end up alone.

\---

"Whats the matter with your face?" Bastian muttered quickly to his best friend Lukas who stood, facing his locker and looking down at his sports top in his hand. Lukas glanced up and sighed heavily through his nostrils and Bastian saw the way his bottom lip quivered in a slight movement, making him grumble. "Oh please don't tell me your still upset over Coach taking your phone away."

****Lukas frowned at his in disgust, of course he was, his teacher had taken his phone and had promised to give it back to him at the end of the day, yet there was no sight of him or his phone, which made him upset. "What do you think Bastian? Of course I am, if I don't have my phone back soon, my mum will kill me; I'll get grounded and won't be able to go on the skiing trip." Lukas ended his small rant with a little pout of his lips.

Bastian stared at his best friend for a few seconds, contemplating something in his mind, before sighing in defeat and leaning against the locker next to him. "Alright look." Bastian whispered, cutting the gap between them so that no one else could his scheme. "When everyone leaves, we'll go to Sir's office and get your phone okay?"

"What? We can't-" Before Lukas could finish his shouting, Bastian had move to cover his mouth, from screaming out about what Bastian was up to. Though, most people in the changing rooms probably wouldn't of taken a blind bit of notice of their scheming ways, they were used to them being this way for a long time. "I am not breaking into Sir's office, it's probably locked anyway, and I don't want to get into more trouble." The ash blonde uttered, this time in a lower tone of voice, yet still aggressive. "Just leave it okay, I don't want to be doing rubbish duty for the rest of the year."

Rolling his eyes, his friend leaned in even closer, explaining. "Look, I know that and that's why I am going to get your phone for you, plus it's not locked, his keys are hanging out of it." Lukas glanced the way of the door that led to his coaches office and saw that Bastian was in fact right, though that didn't mean he was going to conform to his friends plan.

"I'm not doing it Bastian, I'll just wait for him to come back." That made Bastian raised his eyrbrow and lean against the wall, raising his eyebrows at Lukas. "Don't Bas, I'm not doing it." Bastian did not stay a word, just stared at his best friend, waiting, in silence, for him to break. Which didn't take that long, after all. "Ugh fine, but if we get caught, your taking the blame because I didn't want to do it."

The taller boy - only taller by an inch or so - smirked, walking over to his locker to collect his things, happy that he had managed to convince Lukas that this was the right thing to do. Well, he thought it was anyway.

As all their other friends left, Lukas and Bastian took their times in delaying every little thing they did. Lukas took longer than usual in the shower, while Bastian pretended to be on the phone to his mother, who was worrying about him. by time they had done this, there was no one left and the changing rooms were eerie quiet with just the two of them. Coach Löw was still nowhere to be seen, which was a plus for the two boys as they headed, in a creeping manner for no reason at all, towards the door, Bastian taking lead in slowly opening the door. Thankfully, the coach had already left the light on, meaning they weren't in complete darkness trying to look for a small, thin piece of digital technology.

Bastian headed in, now stood straight and like nothing was wrong, but that didn't mean he wasn't scared when Lukas called out his name, which made him jump forward and colliding with the side of the big, heavy mahogany desk. "Fuck, what is it Lu?" he cursed, rubbing his thigh and looking back.

"Have you found it?" Lukas asked, nervously biting at his fingernails as he kept the door ajar for a quick escape if it were needed.

The latter that was questioned, stared back at his friend in disbelief before showing him his hands. "Do I fucking look like I have it?" Asking the obvious back to his nervous friend who just looked down at his feet. Shaking his head to himself and gripping his fists together, Bastian started to do what he was supposed to be doing before Lukas had asked such a stupid question, and started to look for his phone. He checked in every draw of the desk, rummaging through all the pieces of paper, pens and some other stuff he regretted seeing, before moving on to a file container on the other side of the room, but all drawing a blank. "I can't find the fucking thing anywhere Lukas!"

Though Bastian received no response from his young friend and moments later he found out why. "That's because _I_ still have it Schweinsteiger." Upon turning around to the sound of the booming, threatening voice, he saw a sheepish looking Lukas stood only meters away form their coach, his faced twisted in anger though at the same time managing to look expressionless. there was only one thing that ran through Bastian's mind as he watched the door to the office slam shut and that was; _Oh fuck._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little longer but I want you to get to know the characters and their relationships with each other. I'm not sure on this chapter.  
> Although, I had some very positive feedback from the first chapter and I hope you guys enjoyed this one as well! :) Xx
> 
> P.S: Sorry for the delay in this chapter but my laptop charger broke so I was unable to get on my laptop all weekend :(


	3. Sometimes It's Better to Shut Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pupils of München Comprehensive are deep into the ever lasting winter term, boredom set in a long time ago, and now school seems to be the most hated place on the planet. But this doesn't strictly mean that nothing eventful ever happens...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Failing and Benedikt really aren't a match made in heaven to say the least, and Julian would agree, seeming that he was the one that took the brunt of it all. 
> 
> If there is one person that is able to shut up Thomas Müller, it's Miroslav Klose, though he has no clue why or how.

Benedikt clenched his jaw and fists as tight as they could go without hurting himself, all in disbelief, all in disappointment, in anger of himself. How could he have failed? That wasn't possible, he wasn't Thomas, or Marco, or...or any of his other friends. He was Benedikt Höwedes, the straight A's student, that never missed a test and never scored below 95% on any one he had ever taken. Benedikt was hard working, studied for three hours after school and did every piece of homework he had been assigned, so how could be sat here reading the F, with a circle around it?

It just did not make an ounce of sense. None of what he was witnessing was logical, not even in the fabric of time and space, and everything in between that, was this correct. He was in an alternative universe, where everything was backwards, where Benni was actually really bad at school and didn't give a shit, that was probably the only rational explanation for this right now. He was dreaming all of this, every second.

Maybe if I pinch myself I'll wake up...

Benni mused and moments later yelped out after pulling at the hairs of his arms. "Ouch, fu-" He cut himself off, realising that he was still in the presence of his his Psychology teacher. Maybe he wasn't dreaming after all, maybe this was actually reality. Maybe Benedikt had actually failed a test, for the first time ever. Just that thought alone made him groan internally, he hated failure, failure meant that you were a loser, so now, that technically means that he was one. He was a loser and now joined the elite losers club made up of Mats Hümmels, Andre Schurrle, Lukas Podolski and Bastian Sweinsteiger, and that thought sickened him.

He took another glance over his test, looking at the red pen that his paper had been marked in and saw so many big red X's that he made himself dizzy and felt as though he was about to faint.

Maybe he had?

Nope, Benedikt was pretty sure that he was in reality, the pinch had assured him of that.

He knew that falling asleep last night was a big mistake, he knew that he should of risked a nights sleep to revise for this test that he was told about a week earlier. Yet, the simple fact was, he never, he fell asleep, forgot about the test and had to revise quickly during the lunch break, which resulted with him failing his test and receiving a big fat F on his test. Benedikt's throat at become dry and eyes watery the longer he was staring at that one letter, and he was thankful when Herr Schneider that interrupted his inner thought, even if his words were negative.

"I must say Benedikt I was quite surprised that you failed this test. Your one of my tops students, and I was not expecting such a terrible score from you." Benni was just about restraining himself from rolling his eyes, getting a lecture from his teacher was the last thing he wanted right now. "At first, I thought that I had read the name on the sheet wrong, but when I knew it was you, I couldn't quite fathom how awful..." Benni's mind began to wander from whatever drivel Schneider has started to rabbit on about, because the last thing that he needed right now was a lecture from his teacher, with sympathy.

Sympathy was probably the most pathetic way of trying to "understand another person's feelings" when in the real world they did not have a single ounce of sympathy in their body, all they wanted to do was say something remotely nice in order to make themselves feel good for helping another. That's how Benedikt viewed sympathy anyway. Benni could not believe that he was getting the sympathy talk from one of his teachers, who probably now thought that there was something wrong in some part of his life for him to do so badly on a test, when he simply fell asleep and forgot about it. And because of that reason alone, now he found himself with an elite group of people, the failures as he had named them. Sure, most people had failed at least one subject while in school - Benedikt was failing sports up to a certain point but still had managed to pass - but this one fail had put him at par with the elite few slackers that only seemed to be failing all but one of their classes; the Schweinsteiger's, the Schurrle's and regrettably the Hümmels. That thought made Benedikt nearly throw up in his mouth. It was a sickening thing to have cross his mind, to now be associated with Mats Hümmels, the drugged up trog that failed nearly every single lesson he bothered turning up to, usually high as a kite as well.

There was a click in front of the young mans face and his attention was immediately taken away from the druggie. "Have you been listening to anything I've said Benedikt?" Herr Schneider asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Er...yeah...of course Sir." Benedikt gave an uneasy, cheesy smile as his teacher just hummed, looking back down on the test scores.

"Just so you know, the teachers are here to help you through your stressful time." Scheinder rested a hand on Benedikt's shoulder and all that he could do was nod in return, confused on what "help" he needed.Muttering a quick thanks, but not knowing what for, Benni took old of his test again, albeit a little angrier than he had anticipated, and headed for the door.

As soon as the door had been closed behind him, Benni found himself losing it. Growling in anger, Benedickt dropped his bag to the floor and started to repeatedly kick it, muttering obscenities as he did. The relief he felt for just kicking his bag was amazing, not only that but scrunching up his test and throwing it across the abandoned hallway, felt even better. "Fucking stupid test anyway, psychology is a bunch of shitty theories and smart psychologists who think that they're fucking...fucking powerful for finding this and that out and...ugh! Fuck psychology!"

To say he was angry was probably the understatement of the century.

Benedikt kicked his bag once more before stopping himself and breathing heavily, his hands resting on his hips. It was the first time he had really calmed down from leaving the classroom and also the first time that he had noticed he wasn't alone, Julian, Benedikt's best friend and next door neighbour Julian was stood, leaning against the wall and looking quite surprised by his friends actions. Well, not that surprised, it wasn't the first time he had a freak out in front of him.

"I'm guessing you failed then?" Julian uttered in a small cough of a voice, picking up the tousled back pack that Benedikt had so elegantly kicked around in anger. Benedikt, although his cheeks were red from his angry episode, were now even brighter from getting embarrassingly caught with having a little anger episode.

Benni shrugged his shoulder, pulling at his blazer and tie to right it. "Just...y'know...khm." He took his bag back with a small thank you and picked up the scrunched up piece of paper that contained his test and grade, handing it to his brunette friend. Julian stared at Benedikt wondering what he was supposed to do with the paper. Was he supposed to look at it, throw it in the bin, he wasn't sure. His older friend sighed, nodding to it and muttering shortly. "Take a look."

And so Julian did as his older friend said, and carefully opened the piece of paper so not to rip it. Julian's eyes were immediately drawn to the big fat, red "F" at the top of the paper, which was circled, his eyebrows raised and eyes wide. No wonder he freaked out the way he did, Julian thought and glanced back up at his friend, licking is lips. "An F?" Benedikt nodded his head, closing his eyes. Julian shrugged his shoulders, pulling his bag up over his shoulder properly. "It's not the end of the world Benni, it's one test, not the difference between life and death." The brunette shrugged, trying to play the whole thing down however knowing that nothing of the sort would happen.

When Benedikt got in a mood, there was always a storm that followed.

And one that Julian was to used to these days.

Julian had known Benedikt for all of his life, they lived next to each other, their parents were very close friends and really they were like were like brothers. Benedikt was the older one of the two, by two years, but acted younger than the 15 year old half the time. Brothers or best friends, Julian still took the full brunt of nearly every one of Benedikt's mood swings, whether it was person to person or over the phone or computer and he just dealt with it in the best possible way; let Benni talk and switch off. Most the time that way was the best way and worked perfectly, until Benni asked him a question, and Julian would just have to shrug.

This time was no different, of course it wasn't, it was Benedikt.

"Just a test? Just a test!?" The blonde exclaimed, throwing his bag over his shoulder and stuffing the test in the pocket of his uniform trousers angrily. "Julian this test is could be the difference between passing and failing, my predicted grade could go down because of this, don't you understand that?" The younger boy merely nodded, knowing it was better to keep quiet and let Benni rant. They had now started to walk through the hallway on their way out of school and ready to head home, though the ranting did not stop for a second. "It could effect my wish of getting into a good university, oh my god, I didn't think of that!" Benni face palmed over dramatically as they continued through the hallways which had now become a little more crowded with pupils getting their things from their lockers. "This grade alone will be marked on the system and then it'll go onto my uni application and ugh, there goes my chances of studying at TUM! I'm done for, done for!"

All the while Benedikt kept on about this and that, and something about TUM, Julian had been staring off into his own little world, thinking about the homework he had to do tonight; D.T presentation and Media leaflet on the British Film Industry - ugh that was probably the worst one. Don't get him wrong, he loved his Media teacher Mr. Klopp but the subjects in Media were less than average, and frankly the lessons were about as fun as a boil on the arse. His teacher, Mr.Klopp was amazing but the more he talked, the less interested Julian became, even if Klopp was an animated character in his own right, Julian simply hated Media. Which was a shame because Julian wanted to go into International Media studies when he was older.

Benedikt kept on, much to Julian's dismay, he seemed to be on a war path of hatred. "Fucking stupid teacher making me go back after school to get a fucking test, only to find out that I've fucking failed!" Benni growled, pushing past the masses of people that had seemed to emerged from no where. He shrugged his shoulders to his younger friend that was following behind him and continued to push past the group of people obstructing his way out of this hell whole. "I mean, why did I even show up to class, I knew I was going to fail and if I didn't show up it would of meant no sympathy bullshit from Schneider."

"Benni you wouldn't be you if you didn't turn up to the lesson." Julian sighed, blindly following Benni as he typed out a message Christoph Kramer, his classmate.

The older blonde was just about to argue back on the brunette comment when he bumped into something hard with his shoulder. His head whipped round and instantly he regretted in doing so, as he was faced with the tall sight of a man tat he really felt like punching out in his state.

This "guy" - _if you could even call him that_ \- whipped around at the same speed of which the younger boy did, angry that his attention had been brought away from his conversation. "Will you watch where you're going, some of us are trying to have a conversation." A small snarl on his lips.

Of course, out of everyone that Benedikt could of bumped into, it had to be Mats. It was just Benni's luck.

Though his nostrils flared and cheeks reddened, the boy managed to keep his cool, somehow anyway. He pulled his bag strap that had fallen off his shoulder, back and kept walking, only turning to throw his comment back. "You shouldn't be standing where I'm walking." He gave a coy smile, though it quickly dropped his voice as he began to walk away, without Julian by him side. Mats, in return, couldn't help but smirk at the young man as he walked away. He liked his style, well not style, but attitude towards him, even if it was horrible, he couldn't care less. This guy had guts, and ones that seemed to hate him, not that he minded. 

Meanwhile, Julian was stood there, watching his best friend walk away but also focusing on the smirk that Mats had on his face, which made him frown. Why was Mats smirking at Benedikt, was there something going on? Though, he did not have enough time to think of that right now as Benedikt turned around and called him, telling him to "hurry the fuck up or walk home alone". So the brunette, quickly shoved his phone into his blazer pocket, muttering a quick apology to Mats and jogged to meet Benedikt who glanced back over his shoulder. Julian frowned, and glanced back seeing that Benedikt was in fact staring down Mats who only smirked back cockily.

"Twat." Benni muttered, pulling Julian along before starting a whole new line of complaining aimed at that one man. Julian listened as much as he wanted to, a little intrigued as to why they both stared at each other with completely different expression. That was what the 15 year old was having a hard time figuring out. He shrugged it off and felt the freezing air of the winter's season hit his body as soon as they were outside. Great another thing that Benedikt would probably complain about. "....That guy is a class A knob who needs a good fucking beating if you ask me!"Julian didn't really understand how he could stand listening to such moodiness all the time, but he managed to take it on the chin, somehow. _  
_

\---

Thomas watched Benedikt storm passed him as he was retrieving his History folder from his locker, and he widened his eyes upon seeing the bitter expression on his face. Well, someone failed their test, Thomas thought while simultaneously shoving the said folder into his bag with a little bit of difficulty. He checked his watch seeing that it was already 3:10 PM and sighed, knowing that he was running late to his piano lesson which was due to start at 3:30 PM. There was some kind of ruckus from behind him and upon turning, Thomas saw Mats and Benedikt staring each other down.

_Oh uh..._

He watched intrigued as they both stared each other down, Mats speaking first, and when he did, Thomas cringed, just waiting for his friend to flip at some point, but it never came. Much to the surprise of, well, everyone witnessing it, from both Mats and Benedikt. Thomas just watched as his moody friend just kept on walking, turning around to mutter something sarcastic and turning around once more.

"Wow I was pretty sure that Benni was going to hit him out then." Andre whistled from his locker across from Thomas'. The latter twisted around and nodded his head in agreement.

"It's Benni, he looks like he'll punch out anyone if they get on the wrong side, more so Mats though." The brown haired boy replied with a cheeky little smile on his face. They all knew that Benni hated Mats with more than any other human being in the world, but, the thing was, no one - except for Benedikt himself of course - knew why he hated the guy so much. Sure, the guy was an asshole and was high half the time, but that in itself was no enough to hate him the way Benedikt did.

Soon after it died down, Andre patted Thomas on the shoulder, saying that he would see him in the morning for Media and Thomas smiled back, giving a small wink to him. Checking his watch again he saw that it was now quarter past the hour and he had 15 minutes to get on the bus and head 5 miles across the city for his piano lesson, and there was no way in hell that was going to happen. Frustrated, Thomas just dumped the rest of things in his bag without a care, closing and locking his locker safely. As safe as it could be anyway. Checking his watch again probably wasn't the best thing to do because Thomas was now making himself more paranoid that he wasn't going to make it in time.

Adjusting his shoulder bag as he pushed pass the group of Seniors that were still hanging around by their locker, Thomas was just about to pass when he heard a high pitched whistle, and he was guessing that it was aimed at him, seeming that there was no one else left in this area of the school. Thomas turned around to see the group of Seniors all staring back at him; Mats, Jerome, Per, Roman, Sami and finally Miro.

Thomas gulped just from seeing him there, his cheeks already heating up and when he became aware that Miro was the one that whistled to him, his legs went weak. Though he managed to keep himself up straight. Miro was lent against one of the lockers with his hands in is pockets and Thomas had to admit he looked hot as fuck just from that casualness he had, which made his heart swell. "Thomas, you going to your piano lesson now?" Asked Miroslav in all of his coolness.

The others laughed around him, which made Thomas feel uncomfortable, knowing that they were probably mocking the fact that he played piano. "Uh-er..." The younger one tried to sound to the Senior that he was on his way right now, but all words failed him right in the moment that he longed to have a voice. Thus, instead, he nodded his head, fumbling with his bag strap, and desperately tried to get some air in his lungs. However, Thomas could not help but admit that the Senior took his breath away and somehow made him as silent as mouse, and that really was un-Müller-like to say the least, because everyone knew that Thomas Müller was noisy and talkative more than any other person in the whole school.

"Whats the matter Thomas, cat caught your tongue?" Jerome chipped, making the other Seniors laugh, all apart from Miroslav who slapped Jerome across the head which kept him quiet. Miro stepped forward, only slightly and not to much to scare Thomas off.

He crossed his arms and looked at him with a puzzled face. "I thought your lesson started at half past?" Thomas gulped and nodded his head. "Your going to be late and my mother won't be best pleased." There came a snicker from behind Miro and he just calmly stared back with a raised eyebrow, with all but Mats shutting up. 

"Y-ye I... bus..." Thomas felt ashamed of himself for not being able to get a single word out properly in front of the older boy, he didn't know what it was but it was like his tongue had gone limp. Instead he let an uneasy chuckle from his lips, feeling his cheeks burn with embarrassment, he needed to get out of there fast. So, mentioning behind him with his thumb, Miro nodded and quicker than an flash of lightening, Thomas had turned and was now rushing down the hallway to get out of the school as fast as possible, just so that he could breathe again. The brown haired student had to get away from Miroslav, he was constricting his air flow, he was making Thomas feel weak at the knees, he was making Thomas speechless, and all without knowing it.

However, it did not seem like Thomas was having any luck today, first with Benedikt's moodiness and now with the fact that he could hear a voice calling after him. The voice was one that was too familiar to him, it was Miro's. Deep and throaty, the way Thomas loved it to be and just to hear that voice shouting out his name, made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. As the voice started to get closer, the more Thomas pretended that he could not hear it and carried on walking away as fast as he could and as normal looking as he could without arising suspicion. Whatever Miro wanted, Thomas didn't want to know about, as far as he was concerned he was happy being as far away from Miro as possible. Though it seemed like the older one was much more persistent and Thomas was sure he could make out the sound of someone jogging up behind him a few seconds later.

Thomas gulped, he was only a few meters away from the door, if he could just get outside then he would be fine, he would have fresh air and the bus would already be there waiting for him so that he could jump on and forget about that guy. Although, that's not what happens in Thomas life, far from it in fact, because hardly anything he thought would happen, rarely ever did, like right now. Because in those passing seconds, Thomas glanced back to see that Miroslav was only a couple of steps away from him, holding what seemed to be a piece of paper in his hand, which was eerily familiar. That is when panic set in for Thomas; he did not know what to say, what to do, how to react. And before he knew it he'd walked head first into the wooden door-

_BANG_

He was out cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Agaiiin, thank you thank you thank you for all the positive feedback I have received on both chapters so far. I know it has been a slow start, with a little delay buuut...soon, enough, things are going to start getting juicier, so be prepared ;)
> 
> And a little more Muller/Klose action in the next chapter, along with some, lets say, more mature minded scenes :P


	4. The Aphrodisiac Effect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pupils of München Comprehensive are deep into the ever lasting winter term, boredom set in a long time ago, and now school seems to be the most hated place on the planet. But this doesn't strictly mean that nothing eventful ever happens...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thomas wakes up with a headache and even bigger problems to face.
> 
> Marco & Mario do what all teenage boys do; eat, sleep, play video games and making out? 
> 
> Mats, Erik and Sami spend the night in, doing what they know best; getting high. But do deeper situations stem from this?

"Thomas?...Thomas? Can you hear me?"

Miroslav called for the fifth time as he knelt down by the younger boy who laid motionless on the floor, shaking his shoulder to wake him up. To be honest with you, Miro wasn't expecting to have to deal with someone knocking themselves out today, or any day in fact. He wasn't really prepared for something like this but dealt with it in a manner that only Miroslav could express; calmness. It was probably the best way to handle such situations, panicking would do nobody any good, especially if someone had just walked into a door and knocked themselves out.

The Senior kept on shaking Thomas' shoulder until he got a response nearly three minutes after the incident, in the form of a groan from the young brown haired led flat on the floor. Miro smirked, a smirk of relief more than anything but he couldn't let his cool demeanor down as that would be so un-Miro-esque of him. The young boy beneath him, groaned louder this time and shifted, his eyes blinking rapidly open and glancing up. As Thomas did this, Miro saw his facial expression from confused to panic in the matter of a few seconds, seeing his big eyes become more alert and more wide, realising the situation he had caught himself in.

"Welcome back to the world." Miro chuckled.

Thomas, who was still trying to come to the terms of what situation he found himself in, flinched slightly as that smooth, deep voice sounding, so close to him, and gingerly tried to pull himself into a sitting position. Though, he was finding it harder than he thought, his head was spinning and heart probably beating at 100 miles per hour. And that only intensified when he felt Miro's own arm underneath his armpit, helping him up from the cold tiled floor. Thomas had to gulp back a little whimper, his mind screaming; he's actually touching me. Okay, so that sort of came across less perverted in his own mind compared to what it sounded like right now.

Anyhow, as Thomas finally got to his feet, albeit with the help of Miro, he still felt a little dizzy and shaky on his feet, however, he couldn't help but think that a part of that was caused by a certain someone he was with. "W-what...hap-" The brown haired boy tried to string together a coherent sentence or even word, but with the presence of the Senior in front of him, it was extremely difficult to even breathe, let alone speak.

Thankfully for Thomas, Miroslav seemed to catch what he was saying. "What happened?" Thomas nodded, not meeting the older boys gaze as he gathered his bearings - plus he did not want Miro to see that Thomas was blush wildly over the Senior. "Well I was chasing after you because you dropped your sheet music, but it didn't seem as though you could hear me, and when you finally heard, you turned back around, and managed to knock yourself out by walking into the door." Miroslav mentioned to the big heavy wooden door that was in fact the entrance to the school and when Thomas turned to see, he groaned internally at his stupidity.

Now he remembered fully well what happened, it was not that he couldn't hear Miro, because he could, it was the fact that he was avoiding the older boy that caused his stupidity in actually knocking himself out for the last five minutes. Thomas, face palmed and immediately regretted it as a searing sense of pain washed over him from around his eye. "Ouch." He muttered to himself, feeling around his eye to make sure there wasn't any pain, but unfortunately for him there was.

"It's a nice shiner you got there." Miro commented, seeing the purple bruising forming around the younger boys eye. Thomas laughed timidly, and Miro saw a blush engulf his cheeks to the tip of his ears, which made him smile to himself. "Might be there for a few weeks." The Senior shrugged, before remembering that he was still holding Thomas' music sheets. "Oh um, I don't think my mum will be too pleased if you turn up without your music sheets."

Just then, as Thomas was still feeling around his eye, did he remember the real reason as to why Miro was chasing after him and his finger stopped just below his eyebrow. He bowed his head and coughed an awkward thank you while taking the sheets and putting them into his shoulder bag which he had, moments ago, pick up off of the floor - everything inside still in tack. A small silence fell between the pair not long after, it wasn't one that was remotely awkward but it wasn't that comfortable either. Miro was leaning back on his heel with his hands in his pockets which Thomas fiddled with the sleeve of his blazer, trying to distract himself from the beautiful man that stood before him, almost like he was presenting himself on a plate. Thomas refused to meet the Seniors gaze, or even look his way, he could already feel his knees buckling from just being here in the same space as him, and even remembering back to a few moments ago when Miro had actually touched him.

Miroslav glanced over at the boy nervously tugging at his blazer, longing to reach out and stop him from doing it, saying that it would stretch the material. He knew it was a stupid thing to say, but it was what his dad had taught him when he was very young, that was, before he left his mother. Nevertheless, as he kept looking that the boy in his eye line, he could see how uncomfortable and silent he was in front of him, when all the other times he had seen him; loud, boisterous, clumsy - though that hadn't changed - and always had this cheeky grin on his face like he was up to something. So why wasn't Thomas like that in front of me? Miroslav pondered and frowned, screwing his lips. Maybe it was because he was so embarrassed by knocking himself out...

That assumption didn't seem that likely in the eyes of the head boy who had seen this same kid fall over plenty of time and get up laughing.

Many times when he had had a piano lesson as his mother house, Thomas had been exactly the same way as he was right in these passing, even when they were both younger, nothing had changed between the two of them. Thomas was simply one of Miroslav's mother's best clients and she got on really well with him, cared for him like she did for her son, though the two boys had never properly interacted. Maybe a simple hi now and then but apart from that, nothing more.

With a slight shrug of his shoulder to himself, the Senior though that it was matter that was better off not worrying about, as there was more important things to be addressed. Just as Thomas went to take a risky step outside the school, Miro stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. "Listen, I got my car in the car park, I could give you a lift back to my house if you want? And if you could handle Per's awful singing." He added in for good measure, seeing a small smile on Thomas' lips.

Though the brown haired Bavarian just shook his head. "N-no...the bus is here...I'll be fin-." Thomas gulped. That was probably the most that he had ever said to the Senior and even now, he still could not finish his sentence.

"Okay, well, any time you need a lift, you know where to find me." Miroslav comment casually, clicking his tongue. Thomas merely nodded his head, bowing it slightly and not even bothering to say goodbye to Miro - though he did actually try a half way and to say bye it did not seem to work out - before he took off in a hurry, outside into the ice cold air of the winter, which chilled him to the bone.

And waiting for a bus to turn up for another ten minutes probably never helped either, so he was left there thinking and cursing about that fact it might of been a good idea to take Miroslav up on the lift option. However, Thomas knew he was too scared and nervous around that man to even think about jumping into the same car as him, being sat only inches away from him, and having to control all the emotions inside of him. Who was Thomas trying to kid around this guy? and who exactly was this Thomas around him? Because he knew very well that that was not his normal self on any scale. The real Thomas was loud, louder than anyone else he knew, even in the family, he was a chatter box, never stopped in fact, he was cheeky with his little whipped replies, especially towards teachers, he was clumsy as hell, always managing to fall over and hit himself or end up with cuts and bruises. Yet, when he was around that boy, Thomas seemed to change into a whole other person, he somehow seemed to have swapped places with Mesut - one of the shyest people in his year or any year for that fact - and ended up feeling violently sick in Miroslav's presence, but not in a bad way. If anything in a good way, if there is any good way of feeling sick in front of someone...

Miroslav, well, anyone who was everyone knew that he was special, like no other pupil in this school. Head boy, captain of the football team and one of the most popular pupils in the school without a doubt. All the girls and even some guys gushed after hims, none more so that Thomas. To Thomas, the way he acted, the calmness he spoke with, his responsibility, his respect, every little detail about the guy made him a pure God. And Thomas' heart just swelled twice the size while thinking about this wonderful, magical man.

\---

Playing video games, especially one's that involved either Football or Zombie's was one of Mario's favourite leisure time activities, and that was only sweetened when he got to play them with his best friend Marco. Luckily for him, that was the case today as Mario's parents were going out for dinner or whatever. Mario didn't really listen to anything past "your in charge" because his mind had quickly jumped to one person in particular and that was the boy sat next to him, how could it not? Since the older boy had moved to Munich at the start of the school year, Mario had quickly warmed to him and they had grown closer and closer as time went on, to the point where Mario felt it was safe to say that Marco was his closest and most cherish friend. There was something about the 17 year old that caught Mario's eye, he was not sure what it was; maybe his personality - the way he always seemed to act like a 12 year old - his caring side, how he adored his family - though would never show it to most of his friends - the cool exterior he kept about mainly everything, the way he styled his hair, the way he wore his clothes - especially his uniform - the half smirk half smile he would let out which was crooked, or... well, the list could go on. But Mario knew that there was something about Reus that caught his eye and drew him in from the very start.

Something in his heart told him, and his heart is never really that talkative. That's probably the main reason why it scared the younger brunette a little, it was because his heart had never really had an opinion on anything, that was until a certain blonde haired Dortmunder came strolling up the school path back in September. When he saw him, it leaped out and Mario thought he was suffering from a heart attack when it happened, he did not know what to do with himself in those passing moments. It was a real mystery, well, more so then than now he'd say anyway.

"Do you have to eat like a pig?" Marco exclaimed and tutted from where he was led next to him. Mario turned, pieces of stringy cheese form the pizza they were sharing, hang from his mouth as he frowned. Marco rolled his eyes at his younger friend who looked none the wiser and pushed his shoulder, making him lose his balance for a second or so. "Stop sloping your chops together, it's disgusting to watch."

Mario could only laugh at his blonde headed friend as he did the complete opposite of what he said, and now started to slop his lips together more, continuing to eat the slice of pizza in his hand. As he did so, Marco sighed and shook his head, returning to playing to the new Zombie game Mario had bought The Last of Us, trying to kill the 'clickers'. The Bavarian was happy and content with just sitting there, watching Marco do a better job of the game that he had. Though, he could not help himself as his eyes started to wander from the TV screen and to the boy himself, who was half lying half sitting on the other end of his bed. Mario silently started to admire the image in front of him; Marco sat, his blazer, tie and shoes all discarded at the end of the bed, while about half of his shirt button were undone and sleeves rolled up to his elbows. From where Mario was positioned on the bed next to him, he had the perfect view of inside his shirt and the pale smooth skin that was there. The way in which Marco positioned his elbows meant that, not only could Mario see his nipples, and that made him gulp. They seemed so small yet the area surround the nipple a deep dusky pink, while the nipple was a champagne pink colour, a complete contrast.

The sight alone was enough to make Mario dribble in awe, though he did try hard to stop himself from doing so because, well, it would just make things awkward right?

As Mario was finally able to look away from the sight in front of his eyes, several things - which he wasn't quite sure what they were - started to swirl around his mind. Whether they were emotions or thoughts, he wasn't sure, in fact, he was sure that his brain and body had been taken over by something or someone else. Maybe.

Or Maybe, Mario's brain was finally trying to tell him something important, and that was no him needing another piss. In fact, it was the dawning realisation that Mario was actually attracted to Marco - one thing that Mario had always denied. Being so young, well younger, meant that Mario was still developing bodily wise and personality, he was still trying to find himself. It was not the first time he felt attracted to another male, that was actually David Beckham in fact, the ex-Manchester United, Real Madrid, LA Galaxy, PSG player and model, but what person didn't? And how could they not find such a man attractive...well he knew one, and that man was sat next to him, but Mario could forgive Marco for not liking Beckham.

Anyhow, lost in his own thoughts, the realisation that Mario might just be attracted to Marco more than he ever though, but didn't mind at all. Marco was handsome, stylish, fitted in perfectly with mostly everyone, knew how to have a laugh, and most importantly, made Mario make feel wanted. And wasn't that one of the most important things? To actually feel wanted by another? In Mario's eyes it was.

There was something unique, special, mysterious even about the boy sat next to him and, even though Mario already knew a lot about him in the few months they had known each other, he wanted to know more. He wanted to delve into the private side of Reus, the Reus that no one really saw, and he had, to a certain extent but he was sure that he had only hit the surface. Mario knew there was so much more to learn about the older boy beside him and Mario was intrigued beyond compare.

His heart jumping inside his rib cage time and time again, just as he thought about his feelings towards his friend, and he gulped back a small moan, his throat was threatening to release. Watching as Marco, mindlessly reach for a slice of the pizza from the box between them, and using his tongue to gather the excess cheese that was hanging from the dough base. Finally, taking bite of the slice. Mario watching intently as Marco chewed each piece, watching how he would open his mouth slightly and from time to time lick his lips, all while his attention focused on the game he was playing. Frankly, Mario was surprised Marco hadn't noticed that he was watching him for this long, but saying that Marco lacked social awareness half the time, especially if something had caught his eye, like the Zombie game.

Though, just as Mario had finally managed to stop admiring the blondes lips, Marco finally spoke up, albeit, with a grimace on his face. "This pizza isn't very nice...there's too many chili's and olives. Mario, you know I don't like them both that much!" Marco pouted, facing his friend and briefly pausing the game to take a sip out of the litre bottle of Coca-Cola that came with the pizza.

Mario sat watching the way his Adam's apple bob up and down with each gulp he took, before shaking his head and huffing. "You sat here and watched me order extra chilli's and olives, you could of stopped me Reus!" he argued back and crossed his arms over his chest in an attempt to look annoyed with Marco, though the small smirk on his face probably gave that away. Marco lent over between them and pinched one of Mario's chubby cheeks, pouting teasingly at him.

"Aws, is little Mario annoyed at me?" Marco mocked before pushing the 15 year old away by the shoulder and chuckling. "C'mon it's only piz-zaaa."  He burped out the last word, blowing it the way of Mario, who was soon engulfed in the smell of olive, cheese, chili and garlic all at once. The smell was revolting to say the least, Mario waved his hand in front of his face to rid of the smell, while not sort of an apology was given from the blonde.

Bloody typical Reus, Mario though, smirking to himself, as things like that were what made Marco, Marco.

"You are really disgusting you know that?" Mario scoffed, trying to act like the mature one in front of the 17 year old, who was as worse as a 12 year old half the time.

"Oh get off your high horse Mario, you're just as worse as me, and sometimes the worst." Marco laughed hardheartedly, which pulled at Mario's heart strings, though he wouldn't let that on. "Besides, burping is all part of being a man, and we burp to release the gas that we swallow while eating or drinking, it's part of nature." That was said so casually that Mario nearly didn't take note, but, that was nothing new. Most people think that Marco is a brainless idiot half the time with most of the things that he gets up to, however, it was completely the opposite. Inside that head of his, Mario knew that there was one clever brain - a brain he wished to have himself - so it didn't surprise him that much when something came out concerning psychological or behavioural aspects of human nature, along with other general trivia about this and that.

Marco was smarter than most people in his year, maybe even most of the school and Mario included - who wasn't the sharpest when it came to education, he much preferred sports over maths or science any day. Even if Marco was a keen sportsman himself, he couldn't ignore his love for history or flying. Marco loved American history the most, it intrigued him; how the country was first discovered - not by Columbus who in fact discovered the West Indies - how people from England, Ireland, Spain, Netherlands, all over the world, travelled there and created colonies, a better life for themselves, and also the Indians, the migration west to the gold mines, slavery, the battle of segregation and black rights in American...so much history for one country that captivated him into wanting to know more. Not only that, but flying, airplanes, that was another passion of his, he absolutely loved flying. To him, airplanes were great big flying white machines in the air, and ever since he was a baby, they had captured his imagination, and so many questions. He could remember going to the outskirts of the Dortmund's airfield with his grampa, when he was a small boy, maybe 3 or 4, and sitting there for hours on the hill, watching plane after plane come in and out of the airport through his grampa's binocular's, each time writing down the name and make of the plan in a small brown leather book, that he still had today.

"Earth to fucking Marco, you dildo!" Mario pushed his shoulder hard, finally managing to get the attention of the blonde who seemed to space out while chomping on a piece of his pizza. Marco snapped his head to face the younger boy who looked a little pissed off right this moment. "Don't look at me like you weren't listening because I know you were, you were just ignoring me you cunt." Throwing a piece of pepper from the pizza at him in the process. Which hit him right in the middle of the forehead, making Mario laugh loudly, though Marco sat unimpressed by the action. "O-oh what a fucking shot! I really should become a footballer if I can do shots like that with my hand, just imagine what I could do with my feet!" Mario babbled on, finding it harder to speak the more he laughed and became out of breath.

All in this time, Marco stood there, staring at his younger face with a completely unresponsiveness unemotional face. It made Mario gradually tone his laughing down and stare back at his face, with a frown on his perfectly shaped eyebrows. Mario was sure that there was a hint of a smirk on the older boys lips and he let go of a breath that he didn't even know he was holding, seeing that this wasn't a serious matter. But also, his chest tightened and knees weakened at the have smirk, something that Mario had always found quite attractive in the young man. In the silence, they stared at each other, eyeing each other; Marco eyes slightly squinted and Mario's wide with question.

Though, Mario did not have a second more to quiz why Marco was looking like that at him in that way and that beautiful smirk on those thing pair of lips, as he soon found Marco jumping on top of him, shouting. "I'm going to kill you sunny, you son of a bitch!" Before grabbing hold of the tips of his ears. There was not an ounce of hatred in his voice, but more a teasingness it, which made Mario ease slightly, only slightly though, as the Marco still had hold of his ear tips.

See, that is the thing, you might think that pulling at someone's ears is just normal, but Mario hated people touching his ears and especially doing what Marco was doing, thus, making him react my squealing and kicking his feet out. "Aaah n-no no Marco pl-eease to stop!" Mario squealed out, though Marco carried on pulling at his ear as the brunette face turned a beetroot red underneath him. It was a cute sight to behold underneath him and he slowed down how much he was pulling his best friends ears and admired him in this state, Marco's heart thumped, as their eyes met, and Mario's laughed died down again. They were both smiling each other brightly, eyes sparkling, and breaths in tandem. The smiles full of passion for each other were quickly changed in Marco's favour to one that expressed a coy slyness, alerting Mario. "Marco no, not the s-aaah!"

Just as Mario was going to Marco not to touch his stomach, though it was all too late for that as the blonde's hands had already found their way to Mario's stomach, lifting up his top to tickle him more. "I'm not going to stop until you apologise for throwing food at me sunny!" Again referring to the nickname that he had given him for always having a smile on his face, Marco continued to torture the 15 year old by tickling his stomach as Mario screamed in laughter, kicking out. Marco loved the sight beneath him as he trapped him to the bed, it was so beautiful to see that smile, making his cheeks chubby and eyes sparkle. He couldn't had but intensify his actions, just to hear that sweet laughter. 

What he wasn't expecting however, was for the boy he was trapping underneath to somehow flip them over so that he was now underneath him, and Mario was now straddling him. "Who's in control now eh? Think you can tickle me!" 

"You hit me with food you fucker!" Marco pushed his shoulder hard and Mario scoffed, pushing his shoulder back. "Right then, you fucker, I'mma tickle you to death." With all his power, Marco flipped them over again, but, unknown to the both of them, by flipping them both over, he was in fact, making them fall off the bed to the carpeted floor below. 

"Oh shit, my back!" Mario groaned as his back hit the soft ground with a heavy thump, and the added weight of Marco, even though he was slight, on top of his crushed his ribs and he found it hard to breathe. 

Marco groaned to, his chest hitting against Mario's and his breath leaving him for a second before he regained it.

They both had now found themselves in a position they had never dreamt of; Marco laying on top of Mario. One of the blonde's hands by the side of the Mario's head while the other rested on his chest. Meanwhile, the brunette's hands found themselves wrapped around the bottom of Marco's back, their crotches pushed together. As they led there, trying to catch their breaths and looking into each others eyes; a spark ignited. 

In the both of them.

Chest to chest allowed the both of them to feel the beat of each of their hearts, how fast they started to beat as the silent intensity grew between them. Mario watched as Marco gulped, his Adam's apple moving fast in his throat which captivated, and when he glanced back up to his greeny brown eyes, he saw that they were still staring back at him. However, there was a change in them, Marco's pupils were no longer small but fully blown, as if he was intoxicated, and that intoxicated Mario also. He'd never seen Marco this way before, this silent and this...stunned, and every last scrape of it was overwhelming.

Everything from that point of happened in slow motion for the pair of them;

From the way Marco's hand trickled gently through Mario's short brunette locks, to the smile they both shared as he did that. From how Mario's hand snuck underneath the hem of Marco's school shirt and caressed the skin with his thumb, to the way he saw Marco bite down on his lip form the feeling. From how that same hand in in Mario's hair came to caress his cheek, just like he caressed Marco's skin. 

Yet the most important action and what seemed to be the slowest of all was how their foreheads rested together and from that, how, very slowly, Marco closed the gap between his and Mario's lips.

And when they finally met, it was like the creation of the universe all over again, it was a magical event and none of them expected it to happen in such a way. Mario felt how Marco's lips connected with his own, made every touch tingle his own. To feel the softness and tingling sensation against his own lips was something that Mario had never experienced before, not in this way anyway. It was a feeling that would never leave him again, it was one that he would always remember. Marco's lips weren't dry nor wet, they were the perfect consistency, and when pressed against Mario's, they fitted perfectly, not only in shape but texture. The world around them all seemed to dissolve to nothing, they didn't notice anything else but every little touch of their lips or caressing of the skin, it was wonderful; it was their paradise.   

It felt right and somehow, among all of the dizziness and how he held onto him like he was the only thing keeping him alive, something inside of him changed, never to be reserved. This new feeling could be dwelled upon later, because, for now, Mario was content to feel his breath come and go with his.

****\---

"Whoa! This shit is good!" Mats commented rather loudly as he drew the spliff from his mouth, blowing out the smoke afterwards. He could already feel the effects of the weed after the first puff. "Where did you get this from Sami?" He commented, admiring the perfectly rolled paper in between his fingers, with a hazy smile. 

The smell of the marijuana had already filled the space of Mats' bedroom, though, it always seemed to smell of that, not that he minded, he loved the smell of it.

Though, the smell, well it was impossible to describe as there are a thousands of strains of marijuana, and different strains have different smells. For the most part though, marijuana has a unique "thumbprint" to it. Mats couldn't really describe it, but when people say it smells like skunk, that's probably the closest they can get to it with actual words, and they're really talking about how it smells BEFORE it's smoked. It's like trying to tell someone who doesn't know what fresh-baked cookies smell like what fresh-baked cookies smells like. Of course, Mats is talking about SMOKED marijuana, and not cured or fresh marijuana, which has hundreds of thousands of unique, unknown words to describe it. Mats sometimes compares it to the smell and taste to wine; how many ways there is to describe it and how you can never pinpoint one solid thing about a bottle. The word "pungent" comes to mind, it's not nauseous like skunk. Some smell spicy, some like citrus, some like flowers, some have earth metal overtones, some like dirt, some smell like grass, some like burnt popcorn, some like fresh-mowed grass.

Sami smirked from the other side of the room where he was was lounged on the bean bag. "I found this new dealer a few streets down, he grows his own stuff, did a few favours and here we are." The brunette sounded, taking another puff of his spliff and finding himself starting to space out already.

Mats nodded and smirked, leaning back on his bed with one hand behind his head as the other held the spliff in between his lips, while he took a few puffs of it, filtering the smoke from his nose then mouth, in the shape of an "O". This lot was strong, probably stronger than he had had in a while and it surprised him quickly it took effect of him. So quickly that he was sure that he saw the smoke that came from his mouth disperse from it's "O" shape to a whispered flames that started to dance together, twirling up into the air before disappearing from sight. It made him frown though smile at the same time, only weird and wonderful things like that happened when you were this high.

"Your quiet over there Mats." Sami commented and Mats glanced over at him by lifting his head up slightly, already able to tell that the 18 year old was baked. The squinted, red eyes and half hearted smile confirmed that for him. "If anyone's quiet, it's baby face there." Mats nodded with his head to the end of his bed where Erik, or "baby face" to him because of how young he looked for his age, was sprawled out with not a care in the world, his own spliff hanging out the side of his mouth and his eyes shut as if he was sleeping. Erik didn't respond to Mats remark with any urgency, just groaned, which elected the brunette to still out his foot and push the younger boys forward with it.

The contact alone made Erik jump and open his eyes widely. "Dude, get your stinky feet off of my face." He violently pushed his foot away, making Mats chuckle lightly. "I'm just enjoying the taste of it okay, leave me alone." Soon the young boy returned to his previous position, this time pulling the spliff from his mouth to breath out the smoke he had just inhaled. He'd never had something this string before and seeming that he was new to the whole world of drugs, it knocked him out more than ever. Erik was sure that at one point he could feel the room spinning and the vices becoming slower before he shook is head.

The three of them sat there in silence for the next few minutes, enjoying the taste that the weed brought but also it's effects, it made them feel light, fluffy, as if they were on cloud nine, in another world. It was refreshing on the lips, it made some relaxed, while for others, it just made them peckish, and that was the case with Sami. He could audibly hear his stomach rumble. At first he though he was going to burp, but, when it rumbled again, he knew he needed food and fast, maybe some cookies. "Mats you got cookies?" He asked desperately, while getting to his feet.

"Yeah, there's like 3 boxes full in the kitchen." He replied, still watching the puffs of smoke he let out form his mouth. Sami uttered a quick "thanks" before hastily making his way out of the door, with a slight bang. "Looney." Mats chuckled to himself as he lent across himself to get to his iPod doc and turning on the music to play on a low sound, with the first song being ACDC's Thunderstruck, which rung out his room. Mats always prepared in advanced when he knew that Sami was coming over, knowing that they would end up smoking weed and he would want cookies - as always. Luckily for the three of them, especially Mats, that his parents had taken his brother, Jonas, to a football match - well he was the younger and favourite son out of him and Mats, though Mats couldn't complain, he wasn't exactly the perfect son.

Mats lifted his head to see what the young boy, Erik, was up to, and was met by the same state as before; the boy all but seemed to be dead. The brunette couldn't help but smirk at the site, again moving his foot to push Erik's forehead, which was slapped away by the latter in groan of frustration. Maybe he was really just enjoying the taste of the weed, Mats thought. Well, it was either that or the weed was strong for the newbie to handle. 

That gave Mats an idea; maybe he could test his assumptions with a little experiment of his own. 

The first thing he did was the same as the last, pushing Erik's head with his foot, which this time made the young mad rise his head and scowl at the older one, remarking; "Stop trying to piss me off Mats." Which was just the reaction that Mats was looking for.

For his next part of the "experiment" Mats removed himself from the bed that he and Erik were lying on and stretched out his body, nearly losing his balance a little but soon regaining some composure. He then sat back down, but this time closer to Erik and this time, facing him also. Well, laying on his front facing him with his head on his hand. Erik had already closer his eyes again and was now twitching his nose as if he was dreaming about something. And while just glancing over this form of the 15 year old, Mats felt an urgent tug in his crotch area, making him lick his lips. 

Maybe the plan could skip a little further ahead, Mats thought and shrugged his shoulders to himself. Ah what the hell.

Thus, leaning forward from his position, Mats proceeded to rest his lips against Erik's forehead - in place of his feet - and to his surprise, Erik smiled, keeping his eyes closed. That made Mats smirked, though Erik noticed that. "Just because your lips are on my skin doesn't give you the right to smirk Mats."

Mats pulled his lips away and chuckled lightly, running a hand through his curls. "Well am I not allowed to be cocky once or twice?" He threw back at him, winking as his head once again came to rest on his hand, with Erik mimicking his posture, his eyes only half open.

"Ha you? Mats Hümmels cocky once or twice? Oh don't make me laugh, you never stop being cocky." Erik commented and shook his head, his eyes unwillingly closing on him from the effects that were now starting to take more of a control of his body. Mats immediately knew what was happening with the young boy and this was exactly what he had wanted for his little "experiment" to work. He knew the effects of such a strong, pure amount of weed, and especially when handling such a thing like this for the first time had more of an effect on the mind and body, which is what was happening to Erik right now.

Mats flicked Erik's nose to grab his attention and when he successfully done that, he waste no ounce of time in smashing his lips against the plump pair that Erik owned. He spent a fair few minutes kissing those delicately soft and plump lips, which innocently belonged to Erik, and to his thankfulness, the young boy kissed back, albeit a little surprised at first to say the least. And when he pulled away, Erik didn't seem that bothered, there was no wide eyes, no blush - okay maybe a hint of a blush but Erik always had that look about him - no hint of hesitation; there was nothing of the original Erik about this boy in front of him, apart from his beautifully plump lips, that Mats had to say tasted like the candy colour that they are. 

"No do I have the right to be a cocky son of a bitch?" Mats broke the pending silence, not able to take his greedy eyes off the swollen red lips he was, seconds ago, sucking on.

To Mats question, Erik just shrugged his shoulders, acting as cocky as the individual next to him. "Mhm I'm not sure if a kiss is that much of a deal to be cocky about now is it?" Erik mindlessly picked at the stitching of the quit to Mats' bed.

What a fucker, Mats thought as he kept silent before pouncing on top of Erik, his arms that were placed either side of Erik's face, keeping his full weight off the dirty blonde. Erik, who laid beneath him, had a similar smirk to the one that Mats was portraying in the same instance and of course, it was one full of cockiness. And Mats though that Erik expressed such a confidence maturity for a 15 year old, who tended to have a naive edge to them. The spaces between there lips was soon reduced as they connected again, with the added battle of their tongues, and Mats had to admit, although younger and less experienced that he was, Erik was a top class kisser. He knew when to slow it down, add pace, add softness or hardness and how far to push Mats in his dominant stature. His lips were perfectly plump and shaped, and reminded him of the flawlessness that was blow job lips.

That thought brought a glint into Mats eyes as if he had just come across a million tones of gold bars from a sunken shipwreck.

"You know what would really make you be able to be cocky?" Erik sounded through a few kisses, snapping Mats out of his thoughts. The latter pulled his lips away from the former to ask why and Erik just smirk, the weed having an overwhelming on his system. "I think, I should, suck your dick." He said seductively while reaching down and grabbing Mats' already half hard member.

Mats eyebrows shot up.

Bingo, there it was.

All worked out and manipulated by the brunette himself, as innocent as you like. 

Of course Mats was talking about his little "experiment", a way to push the boundaries of Erik's comfort with the effects of such drugs on how the mind and body worked in tandem on making such decisions and Erik had kindly made that decision for himself. A little persuasion swung Mats' way with his seduction techniques.

Mats stared down at the young individual for a moment, his mind contemplating whether this was a good idea or not. He swiftly glanced the way of the his bedroom door, seeing it slightly ajar and letting a small amount of light into the darkly lit room, and wondering how long Sami was going to be - secretly hoping that he had gone home.

Silently and carefully, Mats removed himself from being on top of Erik and laid half on his bed, with the other half of him - form the waist down - hanging off the bed, letting Erik know he was ready. Thankfully Erik understood and soon found a spot in between the 18 year olds spread out legs, wasting no time in pulling both his loose fitting sweats and boxers around his ankles.

Upon doing that, Erik watched in awe as Mats' member bounced up against his stomach, already half hard and gave a small gulp. It was bigger than he expected, but the height of Mats should not of gave much to the imagination. It was thicker too and Erik could only compare it to hold a handful of highlighters in these passing moments, though he didn't know why. That was probably the most stupidest comparison known to man but its the one his brain made and sometimes he couldn't help it. Sometimes in school, he would grab a few highlighters in his hand and wonder if that it was like to hold a bare cock, and now that he had the chance, the first thing that popped into his head was that nonsense.

Glancing up, an innocent hung mouth formed on Erik's face and Mats couldn't help but feel a little sorry for the young man, this was probably his first experience and it was pretty full on. However, Mats' needs got the better of him as he reached down and started to slowly stroke his member, silently indicating that's what he needed most in the world right now. Erik gave a short nod of his head and hesitantly moved his hand to replace Mats', starting to work up he shaft. As soon as Mats felt a hand that was not his own holding his member, he dropped his head back and moaned in delight, and that hand only seemed to get even more confident and daringly teasing as time passed. Erik now had full control over Mats - he was guessing anyway - so started to stroke him from the base, squeezing from time to time, and sometimes the stroke would be soft and slow, whereas other times it would be hard and fast. And the moment in which Mats felt a wet pair of lips take his tip into his mouth, the groaning stopped, his heart stopped and eyes shot open, not expecting such a transition so quickly.

The second Erik's lips touched the tip of Mats cock, already able to taste the pre-cum, he felt how Mats became even harder that before and the dirty blonde smirk victoriously to himself. The brunette was now lent up on his elbows, watching eagerly as Erik started to take more and more of his delicious member into his mouth, relaxing it at the same time. The technique, it was flawless, it wasn't as good as some of the girls that had gave Mats head - and some of the guys as well - but it was good enough to elect a moan from his parted lips, which he had licked too many time that he had stopped counting. What did make the moan louder and his member harder however, was how Erik nearly choked on it as he tried to take the whole thing in his mouth.

Mats took Erik's head in his hands ans smooth a hand through his hair, to help calm him down. "Don't try that if you can't take it all in." He whispered, his throat dry and raspy.

A little nod from Erik let Mats know that he understood.

Erik held the base of Mats' member and soon his lips returned to wrap around flesh of his cock, more cautious about how he went about pleasuring the older boy now. His eyes closed while Mats stayed open, watching his every move, Erik now began to bob him head up and down, using his saliva to cote the cock and made it easier to swallow more. His hand pumping the base where he was unable to reach. Mats had to admit, it wasn't the best blow job he had ever had, it was sloppy and slurpy, although, some say that a sloppy blow job is sometimes the best one around, and Mats had to admit, there was something in the way Erik used his tongue that made this experience all the more pleasurable. And he found himself smirking, dropping his head back and listening to the sound of Buffalo Springfield's song playing out from the speakers.  

The technique Erik adopted, soon started to pay off as the groans and moans intensified from the 18 year old. The grip that Mats had on his hair tightened as well as he tried to keep himself as composed as possible. Though, all self control failed him soon enough, Mats knew he was only moments away from climaxing, and he wasn't sue if Erik wanted a whole lot of hot cum trickling down his throat for the first time. Thus, when he felt himself at tipping point, Mats took control, pulling his member out of the young mans mouth and essentially pushing him away. Erik jumped back, liquid substance all around his mouth as he watched surprised as Mats finished himself off, spilling his load onto his stomach with a whale of a moan. 

As the moan rung out, silent fell and the pair found themselves, in the darkness, staring back at one another, breathing heavily.

And in those moments, as Mats glanced down at Erik -who started back up at him with wide eyes and flushed cheeks- he knew that he had something to be cocky about. But, most importantly, he knew how he had just violated Erik's innocence all in the name of his own, personal, teasing "experiment".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so so sorry that this chapter took so long to post but coursework and revision has taken over my life these past weeks. Also I've been ill this passed week and I've had a couple of problems with losing my work because of my stupid computer sooo hence the delay. But I'm hoping you loved the chapter and little surprises in it, you know what I mean ;)


	5. Learning From Yesterday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pupils of München Comprehensive are deep into the everlasting winter term, boredom set in a long time ago, and now school seems to be the most hated place on the planet. But this doesn't strictly mean that nothing eventful ever happens...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An awkward mess would be the only way to describe Marco and Mario's situation right now, and it's only seeming to get worse for the pair of them.
> 
> Mats is an asshole, but that's expected, though Marco's burst out isn't.
> 
> Erik turns up late with a story to tell his best friend about the night before, though Mario doesn't seem to be that interested in what he has to say, he seems to be stuck in his own little world.
> 
> Andre and Erik bot notice that something is off between Mario and Marco.

The suns unforgiving rays shone down through the small split in the curtains, and unfortunately for Marco, that one ray of sunshine, shone directly onto his face, letting him know that morning had arrived. The heat that that one strand of light had was immense, as if it was burning his face, and in the depth of such a winter, it was surprising, and probably the only time there had been any sun for the last week. Though Marco was not sure that the suns rays were the only thing creating this heat his body was experiencing, he was sure that there was something else, _but what?_

The Dortmunder was too lazy to open his eyes and see what was causing him more heat than usual. It was the morning and morning’s weren’t really Marco’s forte, nor was school, but he was sure that it was still mid week and that he needed to attend it for some reason or another.

Probably for the sake of the Reus’ keeping a clean slate throughout school and his parents wanting him to be like his older sisters, when, in fact, he was far from similar to the pair of them. For one, Marco loved football, his sisters, well they detested it. Marco was the youngest, a mummy’s boy at heart, while Melanie and Yvonne were older - some would say wiser than him but he contemplated that - and loved daddy more. Only because he actually let them get away with more stuff than their mother would. Out of the differences between the three of them, Marco could only manage to draw two similarities; they all loved their family - who came first in every situation - and their sexual orientation.

Marco had to admit, even though he claimed to be bisexual, that maybe, just maybe, he was more into men than he was women. Not that he didn’t like what women offered; the body, the looks, ass, pussy and tits...they were all great, he knew from past experiences. Yet, Marco knew that he just preferred men. They were different from women, they didn’t have these amazing breasts or tight pussy, but they were more extraordinary, had more to offer and Marco knew how to be around men, he was one himself - which was probably stating the obvious. Broad shoulders, strong jawline, muscle, triangular backs, high cheek bones, these were just some of the things that Marco loved about men, and the list went on forever on the matter but he was too tired to think anymore.

He did not know why these thoughts were running through his head at the moment, he was sure that he was trying to distract himself from something or other, but he wasn’t quite sure what, and he didn’t have the effort to open his eyes, find out the truth.

However, the blonde was sure that he was able to feel something resting against his chest, rising and falling in the same motion of his breathing. The first thought that crossed his mind was that it was Melanie’s Mittel German Spitz, Pono, from her smooth fur coat, but that was quickly scrapped when he felt a pair of legs move to intertwine with his own and what felt like bare skin pressing against his chest. Marco frowned, his eyebrows knitting together, as he still tried to figure out what had happened last night, still not bothering to open his eyes - maybe a little in fear of what he would find and maybe a little bit of laziness. He heard a small murmur from his chest, which made him smile as it was cute little sound, though he really couldn’t tell if it was a sound that a man or woman - or dog - would make and that was confusing him even more. Then, he gulped, concentrating his thoughts to the legs entwined with his own. They weren’t smooth or small like you would expect with a woman’s pair of legs, instead, they were hairy and muscular.

_Oh please don’t be Mats again._

Marco thought a few seconds later after the thought of being wrapped up with Mats in a bed sheet crossed his mind. He’ll admit now, it wouldn’t be the first time he’d found himself in bed, hence the “again”, Marco had in fact shared a bed with Mats twice before, in this way anyway. But it was Mats fault anyway.

Whenever he was invited over to the Hümmel’s household, he always found himself half baked the second he walked into Mats’ room, and it always made Marco question; _how the fuck did his parents not notice the pure stench of weed?_ Surely that had too, it just surprised Marco that Mats never seemed to get in trouble for smoking the stuff, nearly every day. Maybe his parents had given up trying to tell him off or maybe they simply did not care? Anyhow, Mats never failed to deliver on getting Marco high beyond belief and before moving to Munich, the blonde had only ever been high once in his life, which was exactly by mistake. And with Mats never failing to deliver on the drugs front, well, Marco never failed to deliver on the sexual front either - wasn’t his fault, he didn’t have control of his body...well thats what he wants to believe anyway. There had been a few occasions Marco had found himself with a cock in his mouth or his cock in Mats’ mouth, or even having a fuck, he could not help himself.

Drugs + Marco + Mats = High sexual activity.

That had always been the way that it worked between the pair - in the 4 months they had known each other.

Yet, Marco had this feeling inside of him that the person laying on his chest wasn’t Mats at all, the body was too small and the feel of material on his skin confirmed that. Plus he couldn’t feel any curly hair cascading over his chest.

In fact, Marco was pretty sure, that now, becoming more awake and aware of his surroundings, without opening his eyes, he knew who was led on his chest.

Marco wasted no time in snapping his eyes open at the realisation of who was led on his chest, and upon looking down, he saw the sleeping figure of Mario, curled up and peaceful. That figure alone pulled on his heart strings and Marco had to compose himself with a deep level breath.

He knew exactly what had happened last night.

Why was he trying to kid himself that it was something or someone else?

Marco enjoyed the silence that engulfed the room, it made for more peaceful setting compared to what was going on in his mind, and that was something that he was desperately ignore. He remembered every little detail that happened last night, every single feeling that rushed through his body, every single thought his mind had, and they all centered around the sleeping Mario who was oblivious to Marco’s internal stress.

The weird thing was, however, not a single feeling in Marco’s body was bad, if anything, he was trying to make it seem bad because of how good it actually felt. Marco had dreamt about waking up and finding Mario curled up in arms, murmuring against his chest, huming, yawing and making cute little faces as he dreamed himself. Mario was perfect in every sense of the word, and Marco knew what happened last night was a gift from heaven, fait even.

Never in a million years was he expecting the night before to turn out the way it did and Marco was sure that Mario probably thought the same. Yet, when they were as close as they were, and when their lips met for the first time, they found that they couldn’t stop themselves anymore. The mixed emotions of the whole thing, Marco thinks, drove them on and on. Every press of the lips, every slip of the tongue, every caress of the skin; it all had meaning. Lust measured with a healthy dose of true feelings was what last night was, and hell, did Marco enjoy it.

It was probably one the best nights of his life.

They did not go any further than kissing and touching though, sure, they fondled with taking off each others clothes, hence why Marco was in his boxers and Mario was wearing a t-shirt and pair of boxers, but that’s as fair as they let themselves go. They spent hour after hour, after the first kiss, laying on Mario’s bed - Marco above the Bavarian - gently pecking each others lips, whispering to each other, feeling the skin of the other and how they reacted.

And as Marco glanced lovingly down at the young brunette in his arms, running a hand through his messy locks like he had done the night before, he could not help but relive every single moment that happened, as if his life was on repeat. He could still feel the softness of those lips on his own, along with the tingling sensation that they created every time they were drawn away. He could still hear the small murmurs and moans that escaped Maio’s mouth, while the younger one tried to disguise them. He could still taste Mario’s sweet, sugared lip, with a hint of jalapeno to them. He could still hear and feel the beating of his and Mario’s heart while their chests were still pressed together.

Marco could remember everything, and he had nothing to regret but the fact that he had done it so late.

Suddenly there was a loud ringing noise from beside him, which startled, not only Marco but the 15 year old in his grip and Marco watched as the young boy jumped in surprise, looking up from his position on Marco’s chest.

For a moment, Mario just stared up at Marco in complete bewilderment, utter shock, while he tried to figure out why he was led on the older boys chest. The alarm was still ringing out, though neither of them moved to turn it off and kept letting it ring out loudly. Marco was dying to speak, or to smile, or to kiss Mario right on the lips and whisper good morning to him, and soon found himself smiling down at the young boy in his arms.

Marco returned the small smile he had received from his friend, telling him that everything was all well and good. Nevertheless, all those thoughts were abolished as Marco lent down and let our lips connect in a soft kiss.

A kiss that was supposed to shout good morning, my love, but one that scared Mario half to death, and he snatched his body away from the blonde. Falling backwards and taking the cover with him, to reveal Marco’s light blue Puma underwear. The blonde was shocked as he stared back at Marco, who looked like a scared little boy, the moment he pulled away from his lips.

“What you doing Marco?” He exclaimed in a weak voice, staring back with wide eyes. “W-why did you kiss me?” Marco’s heart sunk in the following moments, maybe he had dreamt the whole kissing thing last night because MArio sure as hell looked terrified and shocked that his best friend had foolishly planted a - what he thought - innocent kiss on the 15 year olds lips.

The Dortmunder, at first, found it hard to find the right words, or any words at all for that matter, but when he did, his voice portrayed something he hadn’t been in a long time; sadness. “I-I...last night Mario, I just thought, that you and me, we were…don’t you remember?”

A blush quickly covered those chubby cheeks that Mario possessed and Marco wanted to pinch so much. The former bowed his head, sighing and closing his eyes, his heart racing harder than ever before. Last night, of course, how could Mario forget last night. It was probably the best night he had ever had; the video games, the pizza, the kissing and the undeniable feeling of love that swelled in his heart.

“Of course I remember Marco…” Mario started off, keeping his head bowed, which wasn’t a good sign in Marco’s books. Mario’s head was reeling in these moments, he did not know what to say or do and frankly, he was short of answers for the blonde. Of course he remembered last night, every little detail there was about it, probably the same as Marco did. However, when Marco kissed him this morning - and only a few minutes ago  something felt off inside of him, something wasn’t right, he had that kind of feeling inside of him and he was freaking out. He loved last night but at the same time he knew that last night was also a dreamland that they were both caught in, it was a place that he knew that the both of them couldn’t go again, because Mario couldn’t truly be who Marco wanted to him to be. That was something that Mario was thinking last night, wide awake as Marco snored, soundly asleep. Although Mario liked Marco, and maybe even loved him, being together with him, well, that couldn’t happen, he was certain of it. For one, he wasn’t sure how to react to his own actions, let alone what his friends and family would react to their friend/son being with a person of the same gender. Mario’s dad, Jϋrgen, had made it very clear before that he hated gays and that was something Mario was not going to go against. In all honesty, Mario was scared of dishonouring his family and their name if they advocated such views on someones sexuality. Mario loved his family too much to go against any of his fathers words. Which made this whole situation more unbearable. “B-but what we did last night…” Mario gulped, fiddling with his fingers and trying to explain what he wanted to say in the right words. “I can’t do what we did last night Marco, not again, it was a mistake.”

Marco couldn't believe his ears, was he really hearing those words coming from Mario’s mouth? He wasn’t sure, but right then, time slowed down, the beating of his heart speeding up in panic, finding himself speechless. “Mario...I-I don’t understand what you mean, last nigh-”

“Last night was a mistake Marco, it never should of happened and it won’t happen again.” The brunette cut him off and sternly commented, though failed to meet the blondes eyes for even a second. It seemed like he was looking everywhere but Marco, he was avoiding the 17 year old, Marco could even go as far to say that Mario looked...ashamed.

Now that, was true pain, the pain that stabbed Marco in the heart. “But Mario-” Marco choked out, tears in his eyes. “H-how can you turn around and say that after last night? After our-our kisses, after what you said?” The hurt expressed over Marco’s face was killing Mario and when he glanced up to see the red eyes and those perfect lips, Mario immediately regretted every word that he had uttered today, they were insensitive and further from the truth than anything else. It was like Mario had just committed suicide.

“La-I...got lost in the moment…” Mario deep voice drifted off into a tiny whisper and he just wished that he could curl up into a ball and forget everything that he had done and said these past few minutes. He should of left everything the way it was, but for some reason, the 15 year old freaked out the second he worked out whose arms he was in, and from then on, he couldn’t stop the thoughts from reeling and the words from sounding as harsh as they did.

Silence was what followed, the both of them too hurt and scared to say a single word, the alarm clock still annoyingly ringing out. Yet, none of the pair made any movement to switch the sound off, if anything they both enjoyed it, it filled the void of speaking after all.

It was if luck was on their side, in some sense of the word anyway, when the bedroom door opened and the sleepy figure of Fabian, Mario’s older brother, appeared in the doorway, seemingly pissed off. “Will one of you fucking turn that alarm off before I throw it out of the window!” He gritted, his eyes half closed. “Then get the fuck dressed and go to school.” After that Fabian disappeared - Mario thankful that he had not sensed the awkwardness between the pair - and soon did the sound of the alarm. Mario looked across to see that MArco had turned the radio off and was now standing, shrugging his shirt on, silently.

Mario quickly followed the blondes actions, both of them silent the whole time. No words were needed right now to truly express how both boys felt, it was written all over their faces.

\---

The rest of the morning was as awkward as the start of it for the pair of them, but especially for Marco. He felt like a complete and utter fool for what he had done this morning, and the night before. Kissing him was a mistake and Mario said that he regretted it, yeah, that couldn’t get any more painful than it sounded, but it seemed like it could for Marco. His mood only got damper and damper as time progressed. He felt like stabbing himself with the fork he used to eat his scrambled eggs that Mario’s mother, Astrid, had made for him, after insisting that he stay for breakfast and then let the drive to school.

Frankly, Marco wanted to be as far away from any Götze, even Astrid, who was as lovely and caring as his own mother, and knew Marco as well as any of her sons, so immediately sensed that there was something awkward between the pair of them. And though, she didn’t voice it, it was written all over her face; she knew that something major had happened for the two of them not to even glance at each other. But that was her sons business and not her own, so, Marco was glad when she left it at a look before she scurried after Felix to help put his uniform on.

The moment Marco stepped out of Astrid’s car, - with a quick thanks - along with Mario the other side, and felt the cold, unforgiving winter breeze, he was finally able to breath freely. he did not care if the coldness was already nipping at his nose, or cheeks, making them a frost bitten red, he was too caught up in his inner thoughts to care any longer. Marco had had more time to think while eating breakfast and the short drive to school and had came to the conclusion that maybe Mario’s words weren’t the truth.

_I mean, no one kisses you that way and turns around the morning after, saying that, do they?_

Marco was convinced that no one had ever done that, he was determined that there was something deeper to why Mario said those things. He could see the passion oozing from Mario’s eyes last night, he felt the strong, fast beat of his heart against his own chest, he was convinced that Mario kissed him by choice, because he liked him the same way as Marco liked the brunette. Maybe Mario was just scared, maybe, seeming that he was still quite young and still trying to find himself, that the kissing scared him and now he wasn’t sure what to do.

The blonde wasn’t sure what to pinpoint the real truth on, but he knew that he was still hurt by the younger boys words and as much as he wanted to confront him on the whole thing, Marco decided that he needed to stay as far away from Mario as possible, otherwise he would end up saying some things he would regret, and he was not willing to risk a friendship of a bunch of word, nor make a situation bigger than it already is.

So, in his foul mood, he began to march up to the school, up the steps and into the warmth of the lobby all by himself. A few of the seniors saying hello as he went boy, but Marco was in no mood to answer back.

It was just turning to 9:00am, when first lesson started, and unfortunately for him it was Media. Media wasn’t so much the problem for Marco, it was the people that he shared the class with that he was having a problem with as of right this moment; Thomas, Andre and Mats. Probably the worst trio to share a class with when you just wanted to be alone.

Marco hurried to his locker that was located in the seniors section - seeming that was the only free one for the start of the year - and quickly snapped it open in all of his frustration, nearly bringing it off its latches. He took a quick breather, before grabbing his Media folder which was messily put together, thanks to Mr Klopp and his never ending talking which allowed most the class to fuck about, before shutting his locker again and leaning his head against it for a few seconds. Doing this, mean that Marco was able to hear the background noise and nothing more, it brought this feeling as if he was starting to blend into the crowd, become a no-one, with no issues, no feelings, no regrets, nothing, and Marco really enjoyed the feeling.

That was until he felt a tap on his shoulder and opened his eyes, looking out the corner of his eye to see one very annoying guy; Mats. The only downside of having a locker in the seniors area, was that it was right next to Mats’ locker, and having to see and hear him nearly every school day he bothered showing up, was the most annoying thing in the world.

“Catching a quick nap before Media are we?” Mats smirked, that stupid grey beanie covering his dark curls, although some still ventured out by his forehead. Marco glanced up at his friend unimpressed and ignore the question, deeming it a rhetorical one. “Y’know you could probably just do that in the class, Kloppo won’t give a fuck.” The curled haired boy commented further, much to the annoyance of Marco.

Marco rolled his eyes and pushed past the senior. “Shut up Mats.” He uttered as he did and began his way, down the corridor and up the stairs to the media section of the school.

Nevertheless, Mats seemed to be on his heels the whole way there, finally catching up with him as they reached the top of the stairs - Mats practically running up them three by three with his long legs. “Aws whats the matter with blondie today?” The stoner commented, unfortunately not stoned per usual and in a more happier state than the day before. He did know it was Tuesday right? Still considered the start of the week. Marco wished he was stoned, that way the older boy would be more relaxed and less annoying, in some ways. However, he wasn’t, and that was just the fuel for more annoyance. “Where’s fuckboy today? I haven’t seen him around?” Marco kept quiet with a clenched jaw. “Aws has blondie lost his fuckboy? Did you fuck him too hard that he can’t come to school?”

The more Mats went on, not noticing the pissed off look on Marco’s face, the more Marco felt like punching the senior. If he was in a foul mood before, it had not dramatically heightened thanks to the annoying curled twat stoner who had his arm around the smaller boy.

And at Mats’ final words, Marco reacted in a way that he never thought he would do himself.

He found himself pinning the taller, older boy against the wall, just a few meters away from their Media classroom and starting him down. Although, Marco was shorter by a few inches compared to Mats, and more slender, it did not mean that he wasn’t strong enough to deal with this kind of situations; namely pinning someone angrily against the wall. Marco had a fist full of Mats’ blazer in his hands, and muttered aggressively at the boy a few seconds later, not drawing his fierce stare off of him. “For the last time Mats, Mario is not my fuck boy and never will be so why don’t you just shut the fuck up for once and think before you speak?!”

His words came out a little louder than he expected, which attracted the attention of a few passers by, though they were the younger years of the school and had always been known to be a little intimidated by the older boys, which Marco hoped was the fact right now.

Mats eyes became wide seeing the anger and seriousness of Marco and held his hands up, in a surrendering kind of way. “Whoa, hey, Marco, man I-I was just pissing about-”

Marcos grip grew harder as he pushed his friend into the wall a little more, a face of thunder greeting the brunette, whose eyes were wide in a mixture of shock and fear. He really was not expecting Marco to react this way to a little joke of his, it was nothing serious. “You want to stop smoking weed Mats, it’s starting to fuck with your head!” Pushing his friend away and heading to class, Marco left a bewildered and slightly hurt Mats, stood, shocked against the wall, not knowing how to make sense of the scene that had just taken place.

\---

 

Maths.

The one subject that Mario hated, he never could make any sense of it, the equations, the dividing, square-routes, decimals, percentages; none of it made a blind bit of sense the 15 year old. He could just about grasp the basics, yet, all of that today was all cancelled out, and made even difficult, given the predicament he found himself in.

He sat there, at his desk, alone, the seat where Erik usually sat empty, but that didn’t bother him, he was too distracted, too deep in thought to care about anyone else but himself. It sound selfish and that’s exactly what it was, but it was something Mario couldn’t help.

Maths and the whereabouts of Erik could wait because Mario had bigger, more personal issues to deal with and they all centered around a certain blonde Dortmund, and the hole he had managed to dig himself. In all respects, he didn’t mean to dig himself a hole, but once he started talking, he couldn’t stop himself from saying everything that he did. Mario was scared, scared as hell to say the least. Not from the kissing, god no, that was perfect, those lips of his were soft and pink and kissable, but the actions he took afterwards, every word and every step, he regretted everything in the aftermath.

Why did he have to be such a twat and say what he did? Why couldn’t he of just kissed him back like he wanted to? Why did he have to push him away, tell him regretted it and that it was a mistake? Because he didn’t regret it, not for a second, he loved every single second of it. He loved waking up on his chest, feeling his arms around him body, keeping him protected. He loved how their legs were entwined as they slept and how Marco made now queries about moving in anyway, just content about holding Mario in his arms.

Those thoughts made Mario’s heart pound against his chest.

But the simple fact that, even if his heart was pounding thinking about sweet Marco, Mario acted like the biggest twat. He had not only embarrassed himself but he had hurt the one person that he is closest to - excluding Erik. He saw the hurt and pained look over the blondes face the moment he said what he did, and all through breakfast and the drive to school, he wanted to talk to Marco, apologise for his words, his actions; but he didn’t.

Mario acted cowardly after digging himself one deep hole, and while he sat around the family table, eating breakfast, silently next to the boy, he saw the look his mother gave him, telling him that she knew something was up. And later, Mario knew that there would be one hell of a questioning from her, and that, Mario wasn’t looking forward to. He couldn’t turn around and tell her that Marco and him had snogged the night before and then this morning he turned around and said he regretted it, when he never did. What is his mother going to think of that? Surely she shared the same views of Mario’s father, so that was a no go area for the young brunette. Yet, he was sure that his mother would be persistent until she found out exactly what happened the night before.

_Then what am I supposed to do?_

Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, for Mario, his attention from the problematic situation he had found himself in, was suddenly drawn away by the sound of a door opening rukusly. Mario snapped his head the way of the door, while he lent with his hand on his cheek, to see his friend with rosy cheeks, breathing heavily and standing in the doorway of the classroom, looking an absolute mess. Mario frowned at the sight of Erik’s lateness; his shirt half tucked in and half hanging out, his zipper of his trousers undone, belt looped wrong, no tie, no blazer and one hell of a hair-do, if it could be called that.

The rest of the class let out small giggles at the sight of the late comer, but, Mr Hecking was far from pleased. His glasses perched on the tip of his nose as he glanced up from his desk, annoyed by the intrusion. Mr Hecking, sighed, shaking his head and pulled his glasses off his nose, holding them in his hand as he questioned the young, helpless boy. “And what time do you call this Mr Durm?”

Erik, from the position Mario was sat in, gulped and took a second to catch his breath, evident that he had literally run to school. “I-I er...sorry Sir, I woke up late…”

Mr Hecking shook his head at the young man, giving that “that is no excuse” look to Erik before bowing his head and speaking to the brunette, with no an ounce of emotion or care in his voice. “Sort yourself out and sit down Mr Durm, Mario will help you catch up with the work.”

“Okay Sir.” Erik mumbled, making his way through the tables before taking a seat next to Mario, not bothering to sort himself out like Mr Hecking had asked for. Mario did not feel liked speaking to his friend, no matter how annoyed he was with him for making him sit alone in this class for the last half an hour and not been able to copy his work - which he usually did - and Erik spotted how quiet and reserved Mario was being towards him. _He better not be mad at me because I was late_ , Erik thought, while dragging his textbook from his bag. “Psst, Mario…” Erik whispered to the boy beside him a few seconds later, though did not get a response, and seemed to be very deep into thought. Not knowing how to get the attention of his friend and classmate without alerting the teacher who was already in a bad mind, Erik picked up his pen and proceeded to poke the boys side, making him jerk awkwardly away.

Mario, still in no mood to be disturbed, turned to Erik who sat beside him with a face like thunder. “What Erik?” The coldness in his voice cut through Erik’s words like a clean sword, and surprised the latter boy slightly.

“Um... sir said...with the, the work.” Erik frowned, noticing as his friend seemed to be in a world of his own, even when he was talking to him. Put it this way, Erik could get more conversation out of a ghost than his friend right now. He wasn’t sure what was the matter with him, all he knew was that Mario wasn’t his usual talkative, annoying self that usually pisses off Mr Hecking, not Erik.

Mario sighed audibly, and looked down at his mats book, which, per usual, was left blank, as the brunette really didn’t understand the work they were doing, never did. “I don’t know...I wasn’t listening.” He shrugged his shoulders, returning to shading some of the squares of the page in, in the shape of a castle. Erik next to him just sighed himself and opened his own textbook, stealing the unused sheet of Mario’s off him and starting to do the sums, leaving his friend to doodle and be moody.

As Mario continued to harshly colour in the squares of his book, in the same shape, he couldn’t help but want to be in that castle right now - even if it was 2D. But, being in that castle, meant that he would be out of the way of everything and everyone, like Rapunzel was. now, Mario wasn’t comparing himself to a Disney Princess, for one he didn’t have the long blonde hair, the “damsel in distress” sign above his head, and he wasn’t a cartoon. But, you get the just of it, Mario could be away from everything, forget what happened last night and just live his life, and not be missed. Thats how he viewed the whole situation anyway, he felt terrible, and although with a goods night sleep last night, he felt like he hadn’t slept in days.

After Erik had calmed himself down from running to school, he had managed to the sums on the sheet within ten minutes. They were quite easy really and he couldn’t understand why Mario couldn't do something so simple. He was also having a hard time understanding why his friend was so quiet and moody. This behaviour that Mario was exhibiting, was something so far from his usual self that it worried Erik. As he glanced over at the boy sat next to him, he couldn’t help be see how sad yet aggressive he seemed with his actions, which was confusing. Had he had a fight with Fabian again? Or his mother? _Well, they were the only two that could make him like this_ , Erik thought. “Dude?” Erik nudged his shoulder slightly as he whispered. “You alright?”

Mario turned next to him, still resting his head on his hand and nodded his head. “I’m fine.” Mario answered shortly and frowned as if asking such a question was wrong to, because there was nothing wrong, but Erik was sure there was. “What about you? Why were you late?” He murmured back and Erik was only able to make it out.

The latter gulped and crossed his arms over his chest, looking away for a second before focusing his attention back on the boy beside him. “I, er, I just woke up late, forgot to set my alarm.” He shrugged nonchalantly, licking his lips as thoughts of last night jumped back into his head. Well, that was a lie, they had never left his mind all night long, and he had only been so late because he had been up most the night thinking about what had happened between him and Mats.

He still couldn’t believe what he had done.

It was on constant replay in his mind and he felt as though he was about to go mad if he didn’t tell anyone.

Mario, for the first time this day, cracked a small smirk as he glanced over the state of his friend, knowing that that was probably far from the truth. he could tell when Erik was lying and right now was one of those times. “Yeah, and I’m going to believe that because?” Mario challenged, raising one of his perfectly shaped eyebrows.

“B-because…” Erik gulped, nervously bouncing his knee and letting out a little cough. “Because it’s the truth…” He stumbled over his words and exhaled, having to look away from the fellow 15 year old.

Mario rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t born yesterday Erik, I know you're hiding something. So. come on, spit it out.”

Erik took a quick study of the room, seeing most people either working or talking, while Mr Hecking typed away on his laptop, before leaning in closer to the boy sat next to him, who all of a sudden looked so intrigued in Erik’s private life. “I-I went around Mats’ yesterday with Sami, and well, we got high…”

Another roll of the eyes from Mario, who had just placed his pencil down on the table, made Erik aware that that probably wasn’t something surprising or new to the him. “And that’s supposed to surprise me? Dude, you’ve been smoking weed with the pair of them for over a year now, it’s not that bad.”

“N-no, there’s more, well, more than usual.” Erik sighed, holding his head in his hands and closing his eyes for a second. He immediately regretted doing that, because, straight away, a certain view entered the blackness of his eyelids. Him, looking up at Mats, while he had a mouthful of his cock and seeing Mats drop his head back groaning. That was the same image he kept remembering time and time again during the night, which made him sleepless. “I..” Erik started off, but moved closer to the boy, not wanting anyone else but Mario to hear what he was about to say. “I sucked Mats’ cock.”

The second that those words slipped from his drying mouth, Mario jumped back and shocked was not the word to describe the look on his face. His eyes were wide and he had become absolutely speechless at what his friend had told him, which made Erik a little nervous, cowering in his seat slightly. “Y-you mean, actually?” Mario demonstrated, moving his hand in the shape of his fist my his mouth, and Erik shortly nodded his head to agree.

If Mario could whistle right now, he probably would, but then Mr Hecking would find out they were talking and not doing the work - well only Mario hadn’t done the work and drawn a castle, Erik had completed it. Nevertheless, with this new information from his best friend, all he could do was stare at him in shock and surprise.

Erik wasn’t a saint, he smoked weed for crying out loud, he got drunk, he’d made out with the majority of his class, he was your typical teenage boy. But this is a level that he had never experienced before, he had never imagined himself, a few months, even a few days ago, sucking Mats Hummels’ dick and making him cum. They were high and many stupid things do happen when people are under the effects of drug or alcohol, but, come on, this is Mats Hummels.

_The Mats Hummels._

Mario thought, scratching his chin. The same Mats Hummels who famously managed to set nearly the whole science department on fire trying to mix chemicals and light them. The same Mats Hummels, that would show up to English Lit class high out of his mind, so he could be more “expressive”.

_This was Mats Hummels, I mean, come on, the name in itself is legendary to most years, but for Erik to suck his dick, well thats just crazy shit._

As Mario was just about to ask Erik some rather quizzical questions on the whole “Mats Hummels dick sucking” saga, he was stopped in his tracks, by the one man that sent shivered through his bones, just from the sound of his voice.

“Right then Mr Götze, what’s the answer to question one?” Mr Hecking sounded out of nowhere and stood up, pushing his glass up his nose. As the deep voice sounded, Mario looked towards the board with a snap of his neck and his eyes widened. He found himself stuttering over his word before glancing down to his book, to see no answers, but the drawing of a castle, with a Dragon wrapped around one of the watched towers. He gulped as he glanced back up, only to see that Mr Hecking was now directly in front of him with crossed arms and a look of dissatisfaction on his face. Silently, and he means as silent as it could be in any situation, Mario watched as his teacher, reached down and grabbed his textbook, studying his page. He cringed just see his teachers stone faced reaction, slowly watching Mr Heckings head lift up and stare at him for a few seconds. “Well, I think you’ll be able to do these sums in detention tonight.”

Mr Hecking, jumped back on his heels, slamming the book back on the desk with an urge of authority and walking back to his desk. Leaving a stunned Mario behind. Oh, this is just marvelous…

\---

Andre sat down on the benches outside with a loud huff, he really did not have the motivation to be in school right now, he just wanted to be in bed, curled up in a ball, eating pancakes and watching re-runs of Game of Thrones. But no, his stupid father was too strict for any of that “bunking off” business, thus, he was forced to come. Now, if it was mother, lets just say, right now he would have syrup down his top and wouldn’t give a damn. School was a piece of shit to Andre, he only carried on with it because he actually wanted to go places in his life and get out of this shitty city - which wasn’t actually that shitty, he’d just lived here all his life and he wanted to explore somewhere else, somewhere better. Anyhow, as he was saying, school was a bore, lessons were even worse and the teachers - apart from a select few - were all assoles in their own right. and, it didn’t help that Marco, who Andre considered to be one of his closest friend, was acting like a complete and utter twat today.

Not only was the blonde quiet and ignored every word someone said to him, he was rude and inconsiderate. Especially regarding what he did to Mats, blowing up on him the way he did. And when Andre tried to question him on it, he had the audacity to shrug his shoulders and say that he “felt like doing it”.

Honestly, there was something up with him which he wasn’t letting on to.

That made Andre suspicious, and he found himself for the remainder of Media, trying to figure out what the hell Marco was playing at, drawing a blank.

And as soon as the bell had rung, Marco packed up and left faster than the speed of light, leaving Andre even more complexed, and sat on one of the picnic benches on the small field, alone. However, the alone part didn’t last for long as soon, another figure sat next to him, noisily moving to get his sandwich out of his bag, and upon looking across, Andre realised it was Erik, Mario’s friend. The pair had never really known each other enough to get on, but they were mutual friends, and sometimes talked quite a bit, if needs be, and right now, it was needs be.

Erik turned and looked back at the older blonde, half a piece of lettuce hanging out of his mouth from his sandwich, which he quickly swallowed up. “You look like you're about to kill a bitch.” Erik commented a few seconds later, making the older boy chuckle, stretching out his legs and leaning his elbows back on the table behind.

“Uh yeah you could say that.” Andre mused, dropping his head back.

“Tell me about it, I just had to spend an hour with Mario, who was actually like a moody little bitch the entire time...well nearly the entire time.” The young brunette shrugged his shoulders, bringing his phone out and scrolling through his Twitter feed, seeing if there was any new tweets - especially from Mats - as Erik was hoping he didn’t tweet anything about last night. Mats had a tendency to tweet when he was high and tweet about everything, which worried the boy a bit, he did not want anyone knowing about what happened last night, especially Schweinski.

At that Andre frowned, the cogs in his head clicking together and starting to work, starting to figure something out as he turned to Erik, who seemed to be miles away. “Marco’s been exactly the same, for two hours of Media. He’s been rude, quiet and had a massive go at Mats for making some pointless joke.”

The last part of Andre’s words, made Erik freeze, only for a second, while he was eating my sandwich. His heart stopping completely as the realisation of maybe this pointless joke was in fact Mats telling Marco that Erik had sucked his dick last night. That send jolts through his body, but he contained himself and made it look like he had realised what Andre was saying to him, hopefully anyway. “Y-you don’t think it’s linked of you?”

Erik asked suspiciously, eyes a little wide as Andre clicked his tongue, shrugging his shoulders. “Probably, I mean, Marco spent the night with Mario, babysitting Felix, so something must of happened…” He mused, excited by the prospect that he had managed to figure something out.

“But what?” Erik quizzed aimlessly, his eyebrows furrowing together.

Andre smirked to himself, licking his lips as a plan started to formulate in his mind. “Just leave it to me.” He knew it wouldn’t be as simple as asking the pair of them and not today either, he had something else in mind, something he knew would make them talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay guys, a quicker chapter this time around! Whoop whoop!! I have the writing bug again and I spent most my past 4 nights writing this as fast as I could because I wanted all of you to read it! \\(^-^)/
> 
> Anyway, I need to tell you that by the start of April, I'll be going on a semi-hiatus, because my exams will be very soon and I need to concentrate on them as much as possible to get high grades for uni and I won't have that much time to write than I would like to (¬_¬)
> 
> But I will try to get up the odd chapter here and there when I have a break from revising and do a little dabbling in the writing! Hope that you all understand! Love ya!


	6. Vagary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pupils of München Comprehensive are deep into the everlasting winter term, boredom set in a long time ago, and now school seems to be the most hated place on the planet. But this doesn't strictly mean that nothing eventful ever happens...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mats is having a horrible day, and tings just seemed to be getting worse, yet, does someone manage to change that?
> 
> Andre is on a mission find out what exactly is happening between Marco and Mario, but his way of doing it isn't as subtle as he thought.
> 
> Lukas and Bastian are on rubbish duty.

If someone was to turn around and say that Mats was having a bad day, he would have no other option but to agree with them, because it was true, he was having a terrible day.

It had all started when he had woken up late for school, which was generally the usual for him, but today, it just didn’t feel right to wake up so late - by late, he meant 8:45, which still gave him 15 minutes to get to school. But, it still did not feel right to wake up this late on a school morning, it did not feel right not be woken up by his mother. That had always been the norm when he was younger, for his mother to wake him up for school, for them to eat breakfast together, even with Jonas, before she drove them to school. Now though, with Mats being 18, there seemed to be no need for her to do what she used to do, he was “old enough to look after himself” which was technically true but he stilled missed the small things that he did with is parents when he was younger. There was also no need for him to be driven to school like Jonas was, because now he had his own license, his own car… well, it wasn’t strictly a car… it was a motorbike. That was one thing that his parents weren’t happy with, along with the whole drug thing, was that he had bought a motorbike with the money they gave him for his 18th. They had said to buy a nice car - by nice they meant safe, like a Peugeot 206 or Corsa VXR - but instead he wanted a motorbike, a 2012 Yamaha YBR125 to be precise, so that’s what he bought. A second hand motorbike, black, 125cc engine with dual seats.

Anyhow, away from his family issues, Mats was focusing on how much of a bad day he was having.

Not only was he late this morning, but his hair was a mess, and that was a massive negative in the vain world of Mats Hümmels. His curls were out of control, sticking up on ends and making him look like he had just gotten out of bed, which was the truth but his appearance meant everything to Mats. He had to look 100% attractive otherwise, what was the point? To Mats, looks were an essential part of being himself, he got places on his looks, he got the people he wanted with his looks, the things that he wanted. His looks, when perfect, could bring a man to his knees, even if he was straight. When he finally did arrive at school, having speeded and cut through most the morning rush hour traffic, Marco flipped out on him. Marco, who Mats considered to be a close friend of his, had slammed him against the way and freaked the fuck out just because Mats made one little joke about Mario Götze being his fuckboy. _I mean, it’s not like I meant it, I was messing around, Marco should’ve known that._

However, the worst thing that had happened to Mats on this day, was probably the thing that had happened to him right now; he had lost his beanie. His precious, grey beanie, that was made out of an elasticated fabric, allowing it to stretch yet return back to it’s former size. His beanie was perfect, it kept his hair at bay, it kept his head and ears warm in this winter coldness.

But he had lost it and now his head felt naked.

Wrapped in his towel, after sport class, he frantically searched through his entire locker, looking for that grey material. Sometimes he hated sports class, not the people in it - _okay, maybe Lukas and Bastian a little but they got on everyone's nerves_ \- but because there was so much effort that went into having to get dressed, having to exactly do exercise and get sweaty. Mats would rather just sit and watch people torture themselves with exercise than exactly doing exercise himself. Saying that, he was on the football team, as defender, known as the hardest position on the football team - in his eyes anyway.

Another thing that annoyed him about sports class was that he had lost his beanie in the lesson, because Coach Löw had ordered him not to wear it during the lesson. _So, it was Löw fault I lost my beanie…_ Mats did not see what was wrong with wearing a beanie during, but the coaches strict ways meant that he couldn’t wear it and subsequently, form that he had lost it.

Most people are probably wondering why someone can be so obsessed about a simple grey beanie. Well, imagine if you lost your precious phone, the thing that everybody in the world cannot live without, that makes us sane and feel like we’re part of something bigger, that we’re connected to each individual else, whether we know them or not. And that is what it is like for Mats to lose his beanie. Being without that one piece for material made Mats feel lost, naked in fact, it made him feel as though he was unconnected to the rest of the world, isolated and that brought a shiver to his spine. It’s not just a beanie, it’s one with a sentimental value, like everyone’s phone has a sentimental value to them, whether it be the pictures of video’s of friends and family, or the comfort it brought to know that you were part of something. For Mats, his beanie made him comfortable - kind of like his phone as well, but right now, his beanie meant more.

“Ugh! Where the fuck is it!” He growled in anger, tearing his clothes from the bench and frantically looking through every nook and cranny, in the hope that he could see the slight light grey material poking out. He was starting to get frustrated now, panicking almost, and that was so unlike Mats, Sure, he could get angry and even fight people if he wanted to, but he was known to have a calm head most of the time, thanks to the weed.

Per, the lanky defender that was sat next, listening to his music through his headphone, noticed the boy desperation, and ripped out headphone off, looking puzzled at his friend. “What the fucks wrong with you Hümmels?” He quizzed, a smirk forming in the side of his mouth.

Though Mats did not find it the least bit amusing. “I’ve lost my beanie, you haven’t seen it anywhere have you?” Per rolled his eyes, shaking his head and sticking his headphones back in, ignoring the boy again, and his ways. _He was probably high anyway, he usually freaks out about these things when he was high,_ Per thought. However, Mats was not joking one bit, he loved that beanie more than he loved his own brother - sometimes - and to lose it was like losing part of him.

Stopping for a second, he turned around, his hands on his hips, running a hand through his wet curls, which he scanned the room intently. _It had to be here somewhere, it couldn’t of just vanished._ Then, he spotted something in the corner of the changing room, unfortunately it wasn’t his beanie, but it was two giggling dickheads; Lukas and Bastian, or, the pranksters of the school. And without thinking, Mats marched over to them, his cheeks red and frankly slightly annoyed. When he got him front of them, he stood there, puffing his chest out, forgetting he was still just wrapped in a towel. “Alright you two fuckers, give it back.” The brunette held his hand out in front of the two dirty blonde, expecting them to sigh and hand it over.

Nevertheless, as the pair turned back to him and stared in confusion, he had to admit defeat. “What the fuck you on about Mats? Give what back?” Lukas raised his eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Yeah man, we’d never steal your weed, you’d fucking kill us for it.” Bastian chuckled, winking at the taller boy.

Mats sighed and shook his head. “I didn’t mean my weed dude, I don’t bring it with me in here, I’m talking about my beanie. I want it back, right now, otherwise, I’ll knock your heads off.”

Bastian rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest, mirroring his best friends posture, before slouching back against his locker, testing the boy standing in front of him. “We ain’t got your beanie, why the fuck would we? We’ve been training the same time that you have, we wouldn’t have had time to steal it anyway. Plus, I’d rather suck you off than you knock off my head, that way we’re both benefitting.” The dirty blonde licked his lips and looked Mats up and down, admiring his form in front of him.

“Funny Schweinsteiger.” Mats stared at him with no emotion whatsoever and a sarcastic tone to his words. Lukas stared at his best friend from where he was sat next to him, the same face as Mats portrayed on his own, a face saying _“why the fuck are you saying that”_ but he refused not say it, not wanting to start a disagreement with Bastian. The brunette in front of them, sighed and slouched his shoulders, seemingly annoyed with the pair of them, and Bastian having a hard time understanding why - even with what he just said. “Guys, come on, j-just give it back, that beanie had sentimental value.”

Lukas made a face at the last part of Mats’ sentence while Bastian straight up laughed at it. “Sentimental value? A beanie? How can a piece of replaceable shit like that have sentimental value?! It’s a fucking beanie Mats!” The annoying dirty blonde, cackled and fell back against his locker against with a bang, while slapping his knee.

Bastian’s laugh was now starting to attract the attention of some of their other teammates scattered around the room; Philipp, Jerome, Manuel. Fortunately, for Mats, it was not concerning his missing beanie, but the horrible noises that were currently coming out of the dirty blondes mouth. “Basti, shut your fucking foghorn of a mouth up and piss off home!” Miroslav shouted as he exited the showers, last as always. Bastians laughing immediately subsided to nothing as he cleared his throat and looked down. _Okay, maybe I over reacted slightly,_ he thought, before glancing back up at Mats who was still half naked, with his towel hanging loosely on his hips. It was really a lovely sight to be presented with, Bastian mused quietly to himself.

As Miroslav walked past, Bastian flipped him off, not bothering looking his way, in fear of seeing the ice blue stare the senior held. “Anyway Mats, we haven’t seen your stupid beanie, so, if you would please fuck the fuck off and leave us to get dressed it would be well appreciated.” Mats stared at between Bastian and Lukas for a second, a look of confusion mixed with disgust taking up his face. He really couldn’t understand how some people - especially one - could be that rude to him. Saying that, he’s rude to most people anyway. Maybe it was just him? Anyway, with a shake of his head at the pair of, well, blonde assholes - there was no other ways to describe them - Mats turned, and was just about to trudge away, when Bastian called for his attention again. “I was just wondering-” Bastian started to question, but then, in a split second, he shot forward and yanked the towel from around Mats waist, revealing his modest, and making most the changing rooms break into laughter.

Mats on the other hand, just stood there, letting his nakedness be the centre of attention for the next few minutes. He really couldn’t care if he was naked or not, it’s not like any of the boys hadn’t seen, sucked or been fucked by his dick before, being naked was natural habitat to him.

But he was still pissed off he couldn’t find his beanie.

\---

Andre wasn’t joking around when he said that when he said “leave it to me” to Erik this morning, because he really was going to find out what the hell was wrong with the pair of halfwits he considered to be his closest friends. Marco and Mario had never argued once, in the entire time they had known each other, which made this… whatever it was, weirder and more uncomfortable.

That was something that had to be said for at lunchtime, the uncomfortable atmosphere that surrounded their table was so tense that the thickness of it could be cut with a blunt knife, if that’s any indication for you how much Andre hated it. This feeling was only heightened when they both took seats either side of the blonde and proceeded only to give one word answers and grunt for the whole entire time during the lunch hour. It was fucking horrible for Andre to endure himself and was half sure that it was probably worse for Mario and Marco. Even Benedikt, who still looked disappointed and angry from the previous day - like any other - noticed the tenseness between the pair, and commented along the lines of; “Fucking hell, you two, I’d get more conversation from slaughtered cow!”

Benedikt’s comment alone, however angrily it came out from the dirty blonde, smirked at his own joke, even if the halfwits didn’t. Thomas nearly spat out his orange juice when he heard that and Andre, Andre found himself unable to laugh, from the awkwardness, no matter how much he wanted to. Because sometimes Benni could be funny without even knowing it, a quality, Andre doesn’t think he knew - _or he knows very well but acts as though he doesn’t because he was “too modest”._

Nevertheless, apart from that joke from Benni, the mood remained tense for the rest of the school day and it didn’t seem to get any better when the bell rang for the end of school.

Andre sighed in happiness, leaning back in his chair and stretching out his back as the rest of his classmates packed up ready to leave, however he didn’t. He said there, watching Marco, who sat the table in front of him, angrily shove the textbooks into his bag before shrugging on his coat. When this action was done, this is when Andre made his move, and by move, he meant, getting up and putting his own coat on. As he was doing this, he kept a calm eye on Marco in front of him who was struggling to do his scarf up around his next and seemed be getting annoyed by the second with the flimsy piece of dark grey material. “Fucking piece of shit…” Marco uttered to himself, snapping the scarf around and managing to hit himself in the eye with it.

The blonde that was situated behind him, Andre that was, chuckled slightly at that action and at the red line that had presented itself across the width of his eye. Marco glanced up at the sound and scowled in his direction. He was in no mood to be laughed at by one of his best mates, and when Andre started to speak to him, he was in no mood for that as well. Thus, he simply walked away, without acknowledging a word from his blonde friend.

However, Marco, also seemed down on his luck in this instance - _well that was evident by this morning_ , he thought - and before long he found Andre catching up to him and tapping his shoulder. Marco turned to Andre and saw a cheeky smile on his lips, which made him look away and sigh. “What do you want Andre?” Marco asked in a deadpan tone of voice, pulling his strap over his shoulder as he continued to walk, not stopping. In all honesty, Marco just wanted to get out of this school, get home, upstairs to his bedroom, where he could be alone and cry his heart out. He could feel the tears brimming his eyes right this moment, and he knew he didn’t have long before the barrier would break.

Andre seemed a little taken part from Marco’s tone of voice and disinterest, but did he actually? Not really, it was all part of his little scheme or “Step 1” of the process of finding out what the hell was going on between the pair. “Well, I just wanted to ask, me and Mario are going for a kick about in the field afterwards, you wanna come along?” The blonde watched his friend intently, waiting for a reaction of sorts and saw the small pause in his movements, his eyes closing for a little longer than they usually did but also the way Marco drawn in his bottom like he always seems to does when he’s in a mood. Those little issues that Andre found, was a sure sign that there was something going on between the two.

“Uh… um.” Marco gulped, trying to find a reliable excuse that would justify why he did not want to be anywhere near his small brunette friend, if he could call him that now. “Oh, um, no I can’t come, I’ve-I’ve got-it’s my grandad’s birthday so I’m going out for a family meal tonight. Sorry Andre, maybe some other time.” The smaller boy shrugged his shoulders, giving a sorry kind of expression to his friend, tapping him on the shoulder before taking off like the speed of light.

The taller blonde stayed behind, watching his friend walking away, looking stressed. Andre made a face, one that had a tint of sadness in, but also one that also had mischief and confusion. As Marco disappeared out of view, Andre now turned his attention to the other moody friend, Mario, which he was about to do the same thing too and maybe manage to get a little more information out of him. Andre knew that there was no point in asking Reus what was wrong because he would never get an answer or a straight one. Though, with Mario being younger, there was also a high level in nativity in him, that could act as a way to hinder the stubborness.

_I’m hoping it means that anyway_ , Andre thought, heading in the direction of the Year 11 lockers. Once he did arrived, he did have a little issue with finding Mario within the crowd, seeming that he wasn’t that tall and that many other people had adopted the same hairstyle as him, or maybe it was the other way around, Andre didn’t really care, it just made things that much more difficult.

But when the strands of a light brunette came into view, he finally had found him and determinedly headed straight for him, smiling the whole time. “Hey, hey Götze!” Andre called, gathering the attention of some of the other boys that he was surrounded with, one being Erik. The brunette seemed to grimace as Andre came and slung his arm around his shoulder. “What’s up guys?!”

Erik looked taken back by the oddness of Andre’s actions, but saying that, so did Mario, who still looked to be in a foul mood, worsened by the boys arrival. “What are you doing here Andre?” Mario asked, not happy with his appearance at all.

“What, can’t I come and see my mates?” Andre scoffed offended at Mario’s question, which lacked the same enthusiasm that Andre had. Erik rolled his eyes at Andre and his attempts of being genuine because, well, his actions were far from that, it was weird and uncomfortable to watch from his perspective because he was having a hard time understanding what he was doing.

Mario looked up at the taller boy and let out a breath. “Well, not really, your more Marco’s friend than ours.” Mario shrugged, gulping and looking away to get a text book from his locker.

Andre, not really that offended from the truth, patting Mario’s shoulder, with the arm that was already wrapped around him, proceeded to explain the situation. One that seemed to sound awfully like the one that he had told Marco. “Well, now that you’ve mentioned Marco; we’re going for a kick about in the field, want to join?”

“No.” The young brunette with Andre’s arm around him immediately responded, with no hesitation in the slightest way.

Andre clicked his tongue, pulling Mario closer to him as Erik watched on, surprised and confused to say the least. “Nah, come on, Mario, it’ll be fun, you always like to take some shots against us, especially when Marco’s in goal, seeming how bad he is at it.” The tall blonde laughed, remembering truly how bad Marco was as being a goalkeeper, he turned into a squealing little girl when a ball was speeding towards him.

“I said no okay?” Mario snapped, slamming his locker down shut, making it vibrate against the wall. Erik and Andre stood back a little, Andre retreating his arm back as Erik glanced between the pair, starting to get a little worried. “I have things to do Andre… I-I have a lot of homework and assessments that are due this week, I need to concentrate on that okay?” The young brunette sounded, this time a lot more calmness to his voice.

Andre sighed and pouted his lips at his friend, who stared back, not wanting to know. “Aws, damn, dude, come on.” He leaned in between the two boys, against the same lockers Mario had hit only seconds earlier. Andre crossed his arms over his chest, looking down his nose at the two boys who were staring at him. “Whats up with you and Marco man? You’ve hardly talked to him all day!” He exclaimed.

Mario sighed, closing his eyes for a second and running a hand over his face. “We-we just, we had a disagreement, thats all.” He shrugged, checking the time on his phone. The 15 year old brunette left no time for Andre or Erik to quiz him on this disagreement, which it was of sorts, as he spoke again, assertively. “Look, as much I love talking to you Andre-” Andre could taste the sarcasm of Mario’s voice. “I have to go now, and y’know, learn.” Mario glanced between the two, said a quick goodbye, before starting his way home, not wanting to have anything to do with the pair or honestly, anyone. He just wanted to cry, and cry and cry some more, crying was a way to stop the pain of his own actions.

The pair of them watched as the smaller boy trudged away, shaking his head. There was silence between the pair of them for a second as they kept on watching Mario disappear slowly. Seconds later, Erik turned to his older friend - if you could call him that seeming he was the friend of a friend of a friend - looking shocked by his actions.

“What are you doing?” Erik frowned, looking at Andre as if he was a madman.

Andre slung his arm around Erik’s shoulder, like he had done with Mario beforehand, but this time, he pulled the younger boy closer to him, and proceeded to whisper in his ear. “Don’t worry, I’m doing what I said, I’ve got this.” The blonde patted the younger boy on the back before pushing him on his way so that he could catch up with the infamous Götze, leaving the older boy behind, smirking. He totally had this, now all he needed to do was proceed with phase 2. _Shouldn’t be that hard_ , Andre mused to himself, quietly confident.

\---

After managing to lose his precious beanie, without knowing how, and the unfortunate - if it can be called that - incident of Bastian Schweinsteiger being a swine, Mats was just thankful that he was out of that tortuous place that people had the audacity to call a school. And now, he was sitting comfortably on his motorbike, which he considered to be his baby. Honestly, when he was in his leather gloves and jacket, with his black sports helmet on, and his hands gripping the throttle, he felt at completely at home.

The beauty of his bike was like a ray of sunshine for Mats, the exterior, interior, every little detail about it he loved. The sound of the exhaust roaring brought a sense of overwhelming power into Mats’ body and he find himself momentarily closing his eyes as the sound got stronger, the faster he drove. His mother was always scared that by buying something like this, Mats was already writing himself a death sentence, but contrary to popular belief, the brunette was a safe driver. He knew the pro’s and con’s of the road and he stuck by them as much as possible, in a loose sense of the word.

Put it this way, Mats was an adrenaline junky, he drove fast to achieve this, but he always had one eye on being extremely careful in not crashing and killing himself. _Because, lets face it, who would want to end up dead? That’s right, no one._

As Mats began to leave the car park of the back of the school, where he always leaves his bike during school hours, he found himself starting to drift off slightly as he drove, the front light turned on brightly given the low the clouds had fallen. He didn’t know what his mind was going to, but that seemed to be the norm, Mats’ mind drifted off to another fucking universe half the time, where everything would be strangely blurred, twisted or coloured. He couldn’t quite explain was his mind was thinking about because half the time, Mats wasn’t sure himself. He just seemed to daydream most of the time in class, about better things than the subjects taught by the school, bar one; Art & Design.

Mats absolutely adored Art & Design, it was probably the best class. Not only was it easy but it was the only class that he enjoyed and was good at. Mats loved drawing, whether it be still life, abstract, cartoonistic, you name it and he loved drawing it, as well as using a whole other bunch of materials. Sometimes, Mats would spend hours in his room, with his sketchpad, just doodling away at whatever he fancied, whatever popped into his mind, whatever was outside. He even considered himself to be a kind of teachers pet in art, especially with Mr Buvač being the teacher, who seemed to love Mats’ artist abilities.

There was not many things that Mats was good at doing; playing football, smoking weed and drawing were probably the three best friends, and there was only two worthy of being recognisable of being positive.

Even so, with all these countless thoughts running through Mats’ head, he was ignoring the safety of the road and in fact what was right in front of him. He was surprised that he hadn’t crashed, seeming how long he had been away with the fairies. However, what surprised him more was when, suddenly out of nowhere, a figure appeared in the middle of the road, making Mats grab hold of his breaks and managing to screech his motorbike to a stop, at an angle.

The moment in which that had happened, Mats could feel his heart beat racing inside of his chest, the adrenaline of what almost happened back his hands visibly shake. He put on foot on the ground while he attempted to balance out his bike. And although he was wearing a helmet, he could hear the shouts from the person in front of him who looked splendidly angry. Mats gulped, trying to steady his breathing.

“Watch where the fuck you’re going you fucking maniac, you could’ve killed me!” Benedikt screamed at the motorcyclist, who did not seem to bat an eyelid from his position, which only made him even more angrier, and now he wanted to march over to this mystery driver and hit him. _Maybe that’ll knock some sense into him_ , Benni thought, clenching his jaw and fists, ready to follow his instincts.

There he was, innocently crossing the road, on the way home, where, out of nowhere, some maniac biker came speeding towards him and could’ve killed him.

If Benni was angry before, he was seething now, and he was surprised he had managed to hold himself back for so long - about 30 seconds to be precise which was quite an achievement with Benni’s low tolerance level. “Hey, guys, I fucking talking to you, can you hear me over the sound of your own ego?! You nearly ran me over!” Benni was gradually reducing the space between him and the mystery man on the bike, a bike that seemed familiar to him one way or another. What Benni wasn’t expecting though, in the entire time of his rant, was for the mystery driver to pull of his helmet and for a dark brown set of curls to present itself to him, in the form of Mats Hummels. “Oh for gods sake.” He uttered to himself, _why of all people did I have to nearly get run over by him?_

Mats on the other hand, was just as surprised to see that the figure he nearly ran over was none of than the cocky sod from the hallway the day before, the one who bumped into him and said such a sarcastic comment that Mats nearly laughed at it himself. He did not know what to do when he saw this boy, of which he wasn’t sure what his name was, stood in front of him, venting his anger. All he could think to do was stare back at him, the scene from the day before playing over in Mats mind; how his shoulder dug into his side, making him whip around angrily, yet, when he did and when he said that comment, he couldn’t help but look at the beauty of the boy. Mats couldn’t help himself, and when he walked away, he found himself biting his lip and chuckling to himself, following the blonde’s comment. That guy had guts and he wasn’t afraid to voice his opinion, which could be said the same now.

Bringing himself back to earth, Mats stared unhindered, at the blonde in his uniform, who had eyes or evil, and it almost looked as though steam was about to come from his ears he was that angry. The senior still didn’t say a word and found himself once again admiring the boy he had nearly ran over. The cold weather had created a frosting redness to the boys nose, and had spread to his cheeks, adding a pinkness to the paleness, which Mats found extremely adorable, and he couldn’t understand why, but he just did. The anger, the redness of his face, all mixed with how attractive the boys appearance was to Mats, were making him bit the inside of his lip in awe and he couldn’t stop myself.

That was until, he found the same blonde boy, stood only a few meters away from his motorbike. “Hey I’m, talking to you Mats!” Benedikt sounded, stepping forward and putting his hand on the headlight. The moment in which Benedikt spoke his name and placed his hand on Mats precious motorcycle, he felt like he was about to flip.

_No one touches my motorbike and gets away with it_ , Mats thought, clenches his hand around the throttle, his nostrils flaring. He was just about to get off his bike and confront this blonde boy, when something popped into his head, something that this same boy had said to him the day before, and he smirked slyly. Calmly, he replied with the a similar comment that the blonde had recited to him with his voice dripping of sarcasm. “You shouldn’t be standing where I’m driving.” Mats was proud of him and his little comment.

He watched intently as the blonde’s own nostrils flared and how his red cheeks and nose grew in intense, spreading to the tips of his ears. “What did you just say?” Benni asked gritted through his teeth.

Mats smirk widened at this, he loved winding people and especially this boy, because he seemed to react the more Mats went on. “You heard me.” Mats asserted, holding his head high.

The blonde was just about to react when a voice came out from the low mist that had fallen. “Benni, just leave it, come on.” A dark, tall brunette came out into the middle of the road, grabbing the blondes arm. “Just leave it Benni.” The guy said, loud enough for Mats to just hear, before he proceeded to drag the boy away with a little difficulty as this blonde seemed to be more than pissed of with Mats.

The senior stared at them walking away, especially the blonde, watching his form as he turned around, and his eyes _accidentally_ coming to rest on the boys ass. _So, that was his name_ \- Mats thought as he put his helmet back on - _Benni._ He wondered if it was short for anything? Benjamin, Bennett, Bentley, or even Benedict. He wasn’t sure, but when he heard that name being said by his friend, it just felt right to him, it was a perfect fit for the blonde. _Benni._

\---

“This is boring as shit!” Lukas growled, violently jabbing at the rubbish and shoving it carelessly into the black bag he held in his other hand.

Picking up rubbish wasn’t something that Lukas was wanting to do in his spare time, it wasn’t an ideal situation to find himself. The cold weather made everything worse, it was biting cold, so much so that Lukas was sure he was going to contract frostbite if he spent any more time outside. He was wearing 4 layers; his school shirt, blazer, a small fleece and large parka, with the hood and every single button done up, along with a pair of gloves, but somehow he was still shivering. he knew he should of wore more pairs of socks and different shoes to school, but he had forgot them.

He couldn’t really complain though, well he could but his complaints would go unheard by the coach and Bastian, but they had brought this on themselves. Okay, fair enough, the jokes were funny and dirty but it wasn’t their fault that coach showed up at the wrong time, yet, the second incident - fueled by Bastian - was worth this. He means, it was Bastians idea to try and steal his phone back before they got caught which didn’t really work out, so it was technically Bastians fault.

Bastian, who was a few meters away, picking up some other stray rubbish, dropped his head back at his moaning friend and asked god for him to shut up for a few minutes. “Oh will you shut up Lukas, I know it’s boring but we have to do it, so just get on with it.”

Lukas grumbled under his breath and pouted, though Bastian wasn’t wanting to see his reaction, he was just getting on with the job he had been given. “It’s your fault we’re doing this anyway.” He commented, under his breath, still annoyed with his friends actions. Though, what he was not expecting was for Bastian to actually hear what he said and seconds later to have his fellow blonde bringing him into a headlock. “Ah Basti, what you doing man! Get off me!”

Bastian just laughed, his laugh full of evilness and heart as he did so, bringing down Lukas’ hood to rub his knuckles painfully over the top of his head. The blonde wasn’t exactly happy with what his friend had said, so a punishment was due and he knew how much Lukas hated this. “What did you say, ya little bitch?!” Bastian shouted loudly, fortunately there was no one around to tell them off, rubbing his knuckles against Lukas’ head faster and harder, hurting him.

“Aaah, aah Basti stop it fucking hurts!” Lukas tried his hardest to pull away from his friends grip and ease the pain in his head but it was no use, Bastian was stronger than him, much more stronger. “O-okay, okay! I’m sorry! It wasn’t just your fault!”

Bastian pulled away and pushed Lukas away at the same time. “Good to know, now get on and stop complaining.” Lukas pouted and pulled up his hood back up over his head, and with a sigh, he began to once again pick up the rubbish, wondering why people throw things on the floor in the first place and why they just couldn’t walk three yards or so to throw something in the bin.

Lukas and Bastian kept on cleaning the field at the back of the school along with the yard as well, both of the exhausted by the end of it, but still they hadn’t finished because they had to do the front field of the school; orders of Coach Löw. When they finally arrived at the front end of the school, Lukas was in no mood to clean all the mess that was there, it was a state. It was if the coach had personally made it harder for them by sticking extra rubbish everywhere, just to make sure that they were doing the task properly, that’s what Lukas thought anyway.

And as Bastian started clean up his half of the mess, Lukas lazily opted out of his side and instead took a seat on the concrete steps that led to the front doors of the school. He rested his head against his hand and closed his eyes for a few seconds, shivering and listening to the whistling of his best friend. He couldn’t believe how much Löw was making them do just for what he had caught them doing, it all honesty, the blonde thought it was pathetic and petty. He was supposed to be the teacher, but instead it seemed like he was acting like a petty child to spite two of his football teams best players - in Lukas’ opinion anyway.

“Poldi, wake up you lazy piece of shit!” Came the call while Lukas was in his own little world of dreaming, away from the bitter coldness of the winter they were experiencing this year. Though, Lukas didn’t respond to his friend, he was too tired and annoyed to listen or respond to his attempts to wake him up. “Poldi wake up!” A scream, right next to his ear came a few seconds later, shocking the blonde.

What the both of them wasn’t expecting however, was for Lukas to hit his own head against Bastian’s, and manage to fall down the steps at the same time. It really was a sight to behold, and how they both managed it there weren’t sure, for one Lukas was sat down. However, when their heads bounced off each other, they found themselves led at the bottom of the concrete steps. Lukas moaned the same time that Bastian did, holding their heads in pain. The two blondes, looked up, and found themselves wrapped in one anothers arms, with Lukas’ head resting on Bastian chest.

They were silent and just stared at one another, they didn’t know what to say or do, both feeling stupid for the incident that had just occurred. Lukas glanced up, seeing a slight blush of blood on Bastians forehead from where they hit their heads together on moments ago, and silently, Lukas wetted his sleeve and lent up, rubbing it over the blooded stain.

“What are you doing Poldi?” Bastian laughed a few seconds a later as he finished a few seconds later.

Lukas found himself retracting his head and blushing at his actions, licking his lips slightly. “I-I, you had blood on your head.” He shrugged, making light of the situation.

Bastian laughed, throwing his head back against the frozen green grass of the winter. “Thats because it’s your blood you idiot.” The senior commented, and Lukas found himself frowning at this, what did he mean his blood? Sensing the blonde’s confusion over it, Bastian tutted and wetted his own sleeve. “Come here.” Softly, bastian rubbed his hand against the side of Lukas’ head, where the cut was, getting rid of all the blood. The softness of Bastian’s actions, made Lukas close his eyes, peacefully breathing at the rhythmic feeling that Bastian was bringing him. “There you idiot.” He sounded a few seconds later, which made Lukas’ eyes flutter open.

In that moment, when they both were silently staring at each other, smiling, Lukas noticed something about Bastian and it could only be described as his beauty. It was something that he had noticed before, but never as much as he did now. Those hazel/blue eyes staring back at him, and as he smiled the creases next to yes made him look even more beautiful. The next few moments passed in the bat of an eye, he found himself pushing himself above the blonde senior, hovering over him and looking directly in his eyes. Bastian’s hands trickled against Lukas’ wait and even though he had so many layers on, he could still feel the shiver that that small action brought to his body. Lukas found himself leaning in closer, their breathing becoming heavier.

However, as they were about to, there was a cough and when they both looked up, they saw a very angry looking Coach Löw, stood above them, his arms crossed over his chest. “You two queers, stop assing around and start cleaning up! I told you to clean up the school, not each other.” They both sighed and fell against each other once again as their coach trudged away without another word being spoken, it was only their luck that coach always showed up at the wrong time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heeeeey guys! Just to let you know, I'm starting semi-hiatus on Monday so mu updates might not be every ten days, although I'll try!
> 
> Kudos and Comment! \\(^_^)/


	7. Healthy Confrontations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pupils of München Comprehensive are deep into the everlasting winter term, boredom set in a long time ago, and now school seems to be the most hated place on the planet. But this doesn't strictly mean that nothing eventful ever happens...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Benni manages to make Marco have a mental break down.
> 
> Mario becomes a Thespian.
> 
> Andre confronts Marco and Mario and the truth he hears is not one he expected.
> 
> Philipp and Manuel are always out of luck.
> 
> Miroslav wants answers form Thomas.

The next day for both Marco and Mario was worse than they expected, much, much worse in fact. If they thought the day before was bad, then today was ten times worse, because, not only was there the memories of what went wrong, but now people were starting to notice the off-ness about them more. They were starting to comment about it, but not to them, behind their backs.

And that’s what made it worse.

It was alright for people to comment to them, they could handle the odd awkward explanation as to why. Yet, when comments were going on behind their backs about the pair, well, that fueled for something worse to occur, something that no one ever wanted to be the sole attention of; rumours.

Unfortunately, for the pair, who had yet speak a word to each other, send a text to each other, or even look each other in the eye of the course of 24 hours, this was the case. See, that was the problem with a school full of growing teenagers; they liked to bitch. And you would think it would be the girls who bitched the most, oh how wrong you are, it is in fact the boys. The boys, not only bitch, but they stir with their giant wooden spoon and big bowl of bullshit. It had always been the case.

At his old school, Marco had known a few of the boys that liked to stir and bitch like there was no tomorrow, and he had to admit, he had done it himself. Not only had he done it, he had had rumours spread about him, over different things; that he had shagged Caroline, the blonde in his year, in the library (not exactly a rumour, he had shagged her, just not in the library); that he had flirted with the science teacher and that she had sucked him off (not true, he means, she was hot and he did try and flirt, but she never sucked him off); and that he had had a threesome with his two best friends, Marcel and Robin, at a house party (now that one, as much as he tried to deny, that one was true).

Despite these rumours, this was something that he did not want to happen at his new school, he wanted to put those kind of rumours away and stop them completely. But, when you have a school full of teenagers ready to be let loose, something was bound to crop up, he was just disappointed that it was something like this.

It annoyed the living daylights out of Marco and every time he saw a glance or a giggle from a group of girls, come his way, he felt like personally punching every single one of them in the face. _Maybe that would bring some satisfaction_. Marco knew that wasn’t the right thing to do and that he wouldn’t even do it, but he needed a release of some sort, to rid of this horrible pain he felt inside, eating away at him. His chest felt like that it was being restricted from breathing, and it was not a feeling he wanted to endure for any longer, it was slowly killing him, he seriously felt like he was going to have a heart attack, or maybe a panic attack at the most.

It was like everyone was staring at him, talking about him, making him even more paranoid than he already was.

Marco heard the odd rumour here and the as the morning progressed; _“I heard Mario was caught kissing Marco’s older sister and he flipped out”_ or _“I heard Marco beat up Felix”_ or _“I heard Marco and Mario were caught cuddling on the sofa by Mario’s mother”_ and so on, but they were some of the obscure ones. The more normal ones were more subtle and not as extreme as the others; _“Marco and Mario had a fight over the new Zombie game”_ (That one Marco could see them having an argument over) and _“They were playing football and fought over if it was a goal or not”_ (another one that was understandable and that had happened before). However, the worst rumour, and one that really pissed Marco off, was the one that he was asked in Psychology.

There he was, sat in his usual seat, close to the back - because that way the teacher didn’t pick on him to answer that many questions - minding his own business and noting down the important stuff on biological explanations of schizophrenia, when Schneider decided it would be fun - for some reason out of the ordinary - to pair them up to answer some questions in the textbook.

Marco was paired with Benni, which he didn’t entirely mind because, although the boy had some anger problems, he wasn’t that bad and a great friend.

They were working together fine, on one of the applied knowledge questions about the symptoms of schizophrenia in a 34 year old woman, when out of nowhere, Benni turned to him, a frown on his light coloured eyebrows and a little smirk on his lips. From that expression alone, Marco knew straight away that, whatever Benni was about to ask, was to do with whatever happened between him and Mario. His worries were soon proved right, as soon as Benedikt opened his mouth to speak, carefully. “Um, y’know you can, y’know...well you don’t have to hide what happened between you and Mario, Marco.” Benni shrugged.

At first, Marco had a frown on his own face, as he wasn’t understand why Benni was stuttering and carefully selecting his words. It took him only a few more seconds, until a light bulb went off in his mind and he found his nostrils flaring in anger as to what his friend was suggesting. His hand curled up into a ball against his leg, but he knew that this was no place to burst out about this sensitive subject Benni had stumbled purposely upon. “What do you mean Benni?”

Marco acted clueless, however, Benni could see the expression on his blonde friends face, which made him contemplate whether or not he should be saying this to Maroc right now. “W-well, I just...I heard that, um, you kissed Mario and Mario didn’t take it well.” Marco’s eyes instantly became wide, a mixture of surprise yet also anger. _How could someone know that? That was one thing that no one should ever know, not with how horribly it ended._ “I-I mean, it’s just a rumour right, it didn’t really happen, you know what teenagers-”

Benedikt was in the mists of justifying himself and trying not to dig a deeper hole, when Marco lent over, grabbing his arm and squeezing it tightly, as he closed the gap so that their faces were really close together. “Where did you hear it?” Benni, a little surprised at the blonde’s action, stared a little wide eyed at his friend, and not really getting the question he was being asked. “The rumour, Benni, where did you hear it?”

Marco grip seemed to tighten in anticipation of hearing where that rumour had been from, and he had a sneaky feeling that the source would be Mats. _Him and his big, weed filled head must of started the rumour about how “Mario was my fuckboy”, I’m sure of it._ Benni glanced around the class and up to where Schneider was, helping a few of the girls with their questions. Marco wasn’t sure if he was looking around to see if anyone was taking any notice of their conversation or if he was looking for any help from this madman which was gripping his arm off. Marco hoped that it wasn’t the latter, but the niggling at the back of his mind told him different, but the silence was driving him crazy.

Eventually, Benni after a second of looking away, managed to pull his arm out of the preying claws of Marco’s group before rubbing the dull sting he felt in it. “Ouch. Look I don’t know okay Marco? I just heard it somewhere, as I was in the hallway.” He kept up the whispering toine they had adopted since Benni had started speaking, though now, there was a harshness to his tone, like he wanted nothing more to do with the psycho next to him. “Whats the big deal.”

Marco now found himself in a whirlwind of emotions and he felt as though the room was starting to spin. He held onto the table, as if he was trying to stop the spinning but that didn’t help. _Is it me, or is it getting hot in here?_ Marco asked himself, pulling at the collar of his white shirt, trying to calm himself down. Benni was becoming increasingly concerned about the boy next to him, who seemed to be having a panic attack with the way he was looking, and was about to ask him if he was okay or needed a drink of water when he turned to him, his eyes red and lips pale.

“Listen to me Benni, Mats is telling a lie, it’s a rumour okay? Just a rumour.” He said in a rash, skitty voice, shocking Benni slightly back in his chair, who watched on in shocked and bewilderment. Benedikt also watched with the same expression, as March rashly and roughly drew back his chair, standing up, and gathered his textbook and bag, all while looking like he was about to have a mental break down, and all Benni could think was where he was off to in such a rush.

These actions caused Schneider to be alerted and he whipped around at the high pitched scrap of the chair along the wooden floor, only to see Marco rushing past him in a flush. “Marco, where you-”

“I-I just remembered, I have the doctors in 15 minutes sir, bye!” Marco cut across Schneider’s words, rushing past him and out of the door without waiting for a response.

Benni watched, eyes wide, as Schneider dropped the textbook that he was holding and rushed to the door, but not running after the blonde, knowing fully well he was unable to leave his class unsupervised. However, that didn’t stop him from shouting half the school down to get the attention of the boy. “Reus! Get back here right now!” And when he didn’t get any response, he shouted louder. “REUS!” Though, there was never any response, Marco was long gone.

\---

Things weren’t going as well for Mario either, and he found himself in Drama class, sat between Julian and Erik, not listening to a single word that the teacher was explaining.

Thespianism really wasn’t his style, he hated having to act out in front of people, he didn’t understand how something so boring and embarrassing could actually be a subject in the first place. If it was up to Mario, this subject would be banned from every school, and if someone wanted to act, they would go to a school that did it professionally, not have some wannabe actress teach them different techniques on how to read a piece of paper. Plus, there were enough actors and actresses out there, giving him the viewing pleasure of movies already, what was the use of having more?

Drama wasn’t the only subject that Mario found pointless and a waist of his time, there was many, and actually most of them were important ones; English, Maths, Science, etc. He found them too complicated, with too many elements, too many right and wrong answers. What was the point in school anyway? He thought to himself, staring off into space as the teacher walked back and forth in front of them, reciting the play she held in her hand - and one Mario hadn’t even bothered reading the title to. _If school didn’t exist, I wouldn’t have met Marco, what happened wouldn’t have even happened, I wouldn’t have said what I said and I wouldn’t feel like the guiliest person in the world._

As soon as those thoughts formulated around Mario’s brain, it was all he could think about for the next hour, and the rest of the day in fact. He couldn’t remove it from his mind, repeating the words over and over again to himself, hoping that, in some sense, that he could believe it was possible. That he could actually forget the boy he had kissed and was slowly starting to fall in love with.

Mario knew that he couldn’t, but just for a moment, he wanted to, he wanted to be in a life without any emotional and physical pain.

“Mr Götze, I want you to play Vindice please.” Mrs Neid sounded, snapping Mario back into the zone, where he found every class member, plus the blonde teacher, staring at him in expectating. It took Mario a while to process what she had just asked of him, yet when it did, he sighed and hung his head.

His glare caught only the name of the play before he answered; _“The Revengers Tragedy By Thomas Middleton.”_ He sighed. “Do I have to miss?” Mario asked, looking back up and holding his throat, rubbing it slightly. “I’ve got a sore throat.” He feigned pain and coughed slightly, hoping that he’d get away with his little act and not have to get up to read the script.

Though, it seemed that today was his unlucky day, because Neid wasn’t taking any of his bullshit lies today and that was evident by the judgemental look on her face and the way she tapped her heel against the floor. “Funny, because you had no problem chatting with your friends when you came into the lesson.”

“Y-yeah.” Mario coughed against, pretending to clear his throat. “It’s just started to develop now, y’know, 24 hour kinda thing.” He shrugged.

“Yes, and pigs can fly Mario.” Neid answered back sarcastically. “Now, come on, get up, I want to see those acting skills first hand Götze.” So, reluctantly, Mario got to his feet, with his unopened script in his hand and stood in front of his class, who all looked at him expectantly. Erik and Julian, who he was sat in the middle of, had small smirks on their faces, knowing that he hadn’t been paying any attention whatsoever to what Neid was saying the whole time, which would made this even more interesting.

Silently, Mario opened the script for the first time and he wished that he never did, because, as he looked over the words, he found that he couldn’t understand a word that was on there. He frowned, deeply, making lines appear in his forehead as he glanced back across at his teacher. “What the hell does this say?!” He exclaimed, his eyes wide in total confusion, which made the whole class burst out laughing, not that he took much notice of them. He was too busy trying to work out the language of this book.

Mrs Neid sighed heavily, seemingly defeated with the play as no one was understanding it. “Well you clearly weren’t listening when I told you about it, were you Mario?” Mario was unable to answer against her question, because it was true, he had completely zoned out like every other time in this god forsaken lesson. “The language in which Thomas Middleton is famous for is Old English, the Shakespearean period in fact, so what you're reading is just that.” She justified and flicked her short hair behind her shoulder. “So, go on then proceed to read Mario.” The young brunette frown at the weird writing, with too many o’s and e’s in the wrong places, and was just about to speak, when Neid interrupted again. “Oh wait, one moment, I know what’ll make this scene more realistic.” The whole class frowned, while Mario strongly bit at his lip, annoyed that Mrs Neid was prolonging his torture of having to read out nothing that made a blind bit of sense to him. When Mrs Neid returned, she was holding, what could only be described as a discoloured and dirty skull in her hand with a long brown haired wig placed on its head. “Here you go, make’s it much more realistic now Mario.”

She handed the skull to a rather confused looking Mario, who did nothing more than look at it as if to say _“what the fuck is this and why am I holding it”_. Neid encouraged him to start reading the play from Act I, Scene i; “ _Enter_ VINDICE _[holding a skull; he watches as] the_ DUKE, DUCHESS, LUSSURIOSO _his son_ , SPURIO _the bastard, with a train, pass over the stage with torch-light”_. Mario quickly read the stage directions over in his head, and then that’s when it clicked - _Vindice, I mean, I’m talking to the skull... little weird, but I’ll go with it…_

Clearing his throat, Mario tried his best to recite word by word;

“Duke… royal lecher, go, gray-hair'd adultery;

And t-thou his son, as im-pi-ous steep’ed as he;

And thou his bastard, true bee-got in evil;

And thou his duchess that will do with devil:...”

After those four lines, Mario glanced up and saw Neid signalling to look at the skull as he was reading, which Mario, couldn’t quite comprehend. How was he supposed to look at the skull while he spoke, while holding the book and reading from it? For one, he wasn’t a woman and two, it was plain impossible. Though, he gave it a go anyway;

“Four ex-e-lent characters. Oh, that marrow… less age

Would stuff the hollow bones with damn'd desires,

And stead of heat kindle infernal fires

Within the s-spend-th-hrift veins of a dry duke,

A parch-ed and juiceless...lux-e… ur! Oh God, one

That has scarce blood enough to live upon!

And he to riot it like a son and heir?

Oh, the thought of that

Turns my abused heartstrings into fret!

Thou sallow picture of my poisoned love,

My study's orn-a-ment, t-hou shell of death,

Once the bright face of my be… trothed lady,

When life and beauty naturally fill-ed out

These ragged imperfections,

When two heaven-pointed diamonds were set

In those unsightly rings: then to… t’was a face

So far beyond the artificial shine

Of any woman's bought complexion

That the up rightest man, if such there be,

That sin but seven times a day, broke custom

And made up eight with looking after her.”

Throughout the whole of the soliloquy of this “Vindice”, Mario tried to glance between the book and the skull, nearly managing to drop the both of them twice, which elected a giggle from the class, who were eagerly watching him perform, waiting for him to slip up like all good classmates do - _he thought sarcastically._ He cleared his throat and looked back across to his teacher, who was leaning against the mirrored wall, studying the school boy. Mario personally felt that he had done a good job with the text and how old the english was, still, that view didn’t seemed to be shared with Neid, who commented.

“Okay, now, let’s do that again, but this time, add some emotion to your voice, say the words like you mean it Mario. Make the audience believe that you're in pain.” Mario stared at the blonde headed woman for a few seconds, a look of disgust greeting his lips, his mind positively fried. _Is this what hell is?_

\---

Andre shrugged his backpack over his one shoulder and started to whistle while he walked through the relatively quiet hallways of the school. He had managed to get out of his lesson early. Well, not that early, only by 5 minutes, but anywhere away from that devil was paradise for him. He gave the excuse that he couldn’t hold on and needed the toilet desperately - _always worked_ \- but instead, he was heading to the back of the building, close to the car park, to have a quick cigarette.

There was in fact a smokers corner, where all the pupils that smoked went at break and lunch to have a quick one, but Andre never liked hanging around by there, because they all seemed to be a bunch of weirdo’s and having smoke blown in his face wasn’t the best way to enjoy his own. Thus, he found his own little place, where he could light up in peace and not have smoke blown his face, but could blow his own smoke into fresh air. Plus, this part of the school was always quiet, no one - apart from the janitor - came around these parts, and he can’t quite remember where he found it, probably by accident, but the quietness just made it _that_ much better.

In the mists of covering the cigarette in order to light it, he rounded the corner to his favorite little hiding place, but soon, Andre became aware that he wasn’t alone. There, on the few concrete steps, sat a tall-ish blonde boy, who had the back of his head resting against the wall, while his arms were wrapped around his legs. Andre studied the boy for a couple of seconds, when he recognised who it was.

“Marco?” He called out as he edged close, pulling his hands away from lighting the cigarette for a second. The blonde immediately snapped his head to the side, and his eyes fluttered open, surprised to see his own friend andre stood there, with a fag hanging out of his mouth. Though, Marco reframed himself and didn’t utter a word, just sighed and stared forwards again. Andre took this as a sign to move forward, which he did and was probably going to do anyway, even if Marco told him where to go. As he took a seat next to his fellow blonde, Andre leant back against the wall with him, and quickly lit his cigarette. “So... what brings you tot is part of the school?” He asked after his first puff, facing the Dortmunder.

First of all, Marco wasn’t sure on what to say; to lie or to tell the truth. Those were the two options he was stuck between and the only two options he had to pick between. He stayed silent, his brain hurting from how much worrying and thinking that he had done for the 25 minutes he had been sat there. “I just… I just needed some fresh air, I guess…” Andre nodded, offering his cigarette to Marco which he gladly obliged, before taking a long draw of it, puffing out the smoke.

Andre stared at his friend for a moment, feeling a little sorry but also a little guilty for the way Marco was behaving. He wasn’t too sure what had happened between Mario and him, yet, the way he went about trying to see if it was related, was a little harsh, and Mario’s reaction said it all.

As Marco handed back the cigarette and Andre had had yet another hit from it, he turned to his blonde friend and studied him for a second, before tackling the issue that was so clearly in front of all of them. “Look, I know that right now might not be the right time to ask, but its all blatant for us to see that there is something wrong between you and Mario, and I can tell you now, it’s more than a petty little fight of a video game, or pizza, or whatever the fuck the rumours are suggesting. I know you Marco and I know you wouldn’t hold a grudge over someone for something as stupid as that. So, come on, I want to know the truth.”

With that said, Marco stared at the 17 year old hold, before letting out a chuckle and leaning back with his head against the wall again. “You know what?” Andre shook his head as Marco glanced his way. “I don’t think I truly realised how much I fucked up and how much what I did affected the both of us until Benni turned round and told me a rumour so close to the truth, it was like he was there, witnessing it.” Marco sighed, closing his eyes and licking his dry lips caused by the cold air.

“What rumour is that?” Andre quizzed, intrigued that he would finally know what happened between the pair.

Marco took his head off the wall, and opened his mouth to speak, but the noise that came next didn’t come from him, it came from behind them. A loud squeak, squeal even, sounded and when the pair turned around, they managed to see the back of Mario’s head and his unmistakable red and blue Bayern Munich backpack. Marco didn’t do anything, he just froze to the spot, his heart stopping. Andre, however, jumped to his feet, taking one more draw of his cigarette before throwing it to the floor and chasing after the younger boy.

“Hey Mario!” Andre shouted, grabbing the attention of the young boy, who tried to escape. “Mario, I know you can hear me, why the fuck are running?!” He sounded patronisingly as he rushed after him, managing to grab the loop of his backpack, pulling him to an abrupt stop.

Mario dropped his head back and groaned. “E-er come on man, I-I have places to be, look class starts in five minutes time.” The younger boy tried to reason with Andre, though, it seemed he wasn’t falling for that bullshit.

“Could not give a shit Götze.” Andre turned him around. “Your bullshit is astonishing, but right now, you're coming with me.” Not letting go of the young brunette, the older blonde proceeded to drag him back around the corner, where Marco was stood looking uncomfortably, before throwing him next to the other boy. As soon as they were both firmly sat on the concrete steps, both taking a small glance at each other before looking away and sitting awkwardly, Andre wasted no time in getting to the point. “What. The. _FUCK_. Is. Going. On?!” He shouted at the pair, who timidly looked down as if they were getting scolded by their mothers. “Two days ago you two were the best of friends, and now, you won’t even look at each other. And honestly, I’m getting sick of seeing it, so now it’s time to come clean and actually tell me the truth.”

They both stayed silent, neither one of them wanting to be the first to speak, maybe because they were scared to or maybe because they simply didn’t want to bring up the subject again.

“I-I told you Andre, it was just an argument.” Mario murmured, running a hand through his styled hair.

The blonde stood in front of the pair, stared at him for a second, putting his hands his pocket before laughing sarcastically. “You really are a terrible liar do you know that Götze? I can see straight through you, you’re shit at lying, so whats the fucking point when all you have to do is tell me the truth-!”

In that moment, there was something inside Marco that just clicked, made his blood boil and he found himself standing up, grabbing his friend by the tie. “Okay fine, you want to know the truth?!” Marco shouted in his face, which Mario looked on worried, having stood up himself. “We kissed! We fucking kissed, and I… I fucking loved every second we did.” There were tears now forming in his eyes as those words slipped from his mouth. Marco still held onto his friend, who was now motionless, not able to utter a thing and in shock from the news that he had just heard.

“I…” Andre uttered, glancing to Mario behind him, his head bowed. “Then why won’t you two?...” He was lost for words, having a hard time digesting the news but also trying to figure out why they were acting the way they were.

Marco’s face had drained coloured completely, it was as if that question was like witnessing a murder in front of him and he was helpless in stopping it. His grip on Andre’s tie loosened, and the taller blonde watched as a single tear fell from his eye and down his discoloured cheek. “He didn’t…” His voice was now small, fearful in ways and Andre found himself staring in confusion.

Then it clicked, _Mario didn’t feel the same way that Marco did…_

There was silence after that, after those words and how it clicked together. Andre stared at Marco, a sorrowed expression covering his face, feeling truly sorry about what he just heard. He almost felt angry to see his friend so pained to tell him that and now he understood why he acted that way, but he couldn’t understand why Mario acted that way, like he was the victim or such.

They both heard a scatter and seconds later, when they looked around, they saw Mario scurrying off around the corner again and away from the situation. He looked around at the two boys for a second, his eyes catching a glimpse of Marco’s. Marco saw something in his eyes, something different, as if he was trying to apologise without saying anything at all. He gulped, closing his eyes and when he opened them again, Mario was gone.

Andre was already going after him, but Marco grabbed his arm, stopping him. “N-no Andre, just… let him okay.” He sighed defeated, gulping. “Just, don’t.”

\---

The bell rang to signal that it was lunch time and Manuel waited patiently, leaning against the wall, next to the history classroom where Philipp was finishing his class.

Today, they were going to a local restaurant to have dinner and seeming they both didn’t have last lessons, it meant that they were able to spend more time together. Manuel couldn’t help but feel a little excited about taking his boyfriend out for lunch, lately he had felt like the pair were drifting apart given the amount of times they seemed to be unfortunate with interruptions or work, or studying. But today was a day where he and Philipp could go off and be themselves, enjoy each other company, and actually act like a real couple without their friends mocking them.

Not that they mocked them in a bad way - mainly because everyone knew Manu would beat them up if they did - but in the way a close mate would mock his friend for having a girlfriend and being all soppy about it.

Now, Manu and Philipp weren’t that kind of couple, frankly public displays of love weren’t Manu’s style, he hated it. Sure, he’d give Philipp a quick, loving hug, or kiss to the cheek or forehead, but he couldn’t stand to take it any further than that and he was glad his boyfriend agreed with him. He just enjoyed spending time with Philipp, because if there was one person that could a smile on his face, it was him. He always knew how to make him happy and feel all warm inside, and every time he held hands with the smaller boy, he always felt a jolt of electricity spark up his back and burst into his heart somehow.

That’s what Manuel really cherish about this boy, how he made him feel no matter what situation. Philipp made Manuel feel special, and Manuel was certain that his boyfriend was an angel, a gift from god, who happened to land right next to him in Science glass, with a pair of safety goggles on, holding a marshmallow over a bunsen burner before eating it, without the teacher knowing. That moment in which Manuel watched Philipp turn to him and wink, he knew that there was a difference in him to all the other boys of his year.

Returning back to reality, Manuel checked his watch and saw that he had been stood there for the past 4 minutes and there was still no sign of Philipp. _Even the teacher had left and yet there was no Fips in sight_. Manuel sighed and hit his head against the wall, which actually quite hurt, and he rubbed the spot, taking the chance to open the door to the classroom where he was sure that his boyfriend was in.

The door squeaked open as he moved it open, and poked his head through. “Fips?” He whispered, as if he wasn’t supposed to be in the room, and since the teacher had left, he really shouldn’t be, but with a missing boyfriend, he had reason to be. “Fips, you in here?” Manuel whispered again, opening the door a bit further when he had no reply. But, when he heard a frustrated growl from the far corner, he was sure that his partner was in here. _No one else growled in that way_ , he thought to himself and stepped into the classroom.

Once he did, he found his boyfriend hunched over a giant piece of paper or card, that had a big “H” wrote on it, and was frantically colouring it in. Although Manuel was amused with the sight before, he couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed with it as well, he knew that now, they might not have the time to spend together now. Manuel quietly approached the boy, not to scare him and make him go wrong on whatever he was doing, and took a seat on the table opposite, prompting his feet on the chair. Still there seemed to be no pulling Philipp away from what he was doing, so Manuel’s only other choice was to speak.

“Fips, what are you doing?” That seemed to alert the smaller senior, who jumped back and dropped his paintbrush to the floor. Philipp, eyes wide and heart beating fast, looked up and sighed in instantly relief and also a bit of annoyance once he saw that it was only Manuel.

“Oh it’s you.” He bent down and grabbed his brush, and thanking god that no point had managed to hit the floor. Manuel raised his eyebrow at his boyfriends comment and Philipp didn’t realise how horrible it had sounded until now. “I-I didn’t mean it like that, I just…” Manu nodded his head understanding, and Philipp found himself staring at his boyfriend in awe at how beautiful he actually was. _Well of course he is, he’s my boyfriend_ , Philipp thought, fingering his paint brush in his trance.

Manuel found it funny how Philipp would not only get stuck in these types of trances, but not be aware of what he was doing at all, meaning that all read paint was getting over his fingers as he twirled the brush between them casually. The taller blonde smirked, shaking his head again before looking down at his watch, noticing that they only had a short amount of time to get to the the restaurant. Although Manu hadn’t made any reservations, he still liked to get to places on time and get to spend more time with the one he loved was a plus.

“So, uh, Fips, we leaving or not?” He clicked his fingers in front of his face, bringing the smaller boy back into the real world where he stared at his boyfriend, trying to understand his words. “We going for lunch or not?”

Manuel’s second questioned helped everything click into place and he found himself blushing with the bad news he was about to tell his tall compatriot. “Um...y-yeah...about that…” Philipp cleared his throat. “I may have, accidentally volunteered to help make a history sign for the open day…”

Philipp smiled sheepishly and cheekily at the same time, if it is even possible, and kept mindlessly twirling the paintbrush in his fingers as he nervously looked over at his boyfriend opposite him. “And how-how have you done that Fips?”

Philipp bit his lips, looking down at the ground as he answered. “Well, uh, I wasn’t paying that much attention to what she was saying because she was rabbiting on and I was just so bored, and then she asked if I could help, so I said sure… but, but, I thought she meant a different time, not now!” He moaned, annoyed with his own deficiency of not being able to listen well enough. “I tried to get out of it but she wouldn’t listen, and now she’s gone to the Art department to get more paints, and ugh. I feel like five years old doing this.”

“You look like a five year old doing it.” Manuel’s smirked with his arms crossed and Philipp pouted at him in hurt, thinking that he was referring to his height. “Fips, not your height, look at your hands you dick!” As Philipp did as his boyfriend had said, he let out another groan, this time full of frustration as he looked down at the mess he had made on his hand without even knowing it.

The light browned hair boy disposed of the brush in the little cup of water his teacher had given him and stared at his hands in disgust. “Oh just great, it looks like I got blood all over my hands now.” Philipp ranted, though Manuel wasn’t taking a blind bit of notice on him, instead, he was putting out a wet wipe from the box on the desk.

“Fips, it’s paint, not blood, now give me your hands.” Philipp obeyed the tall blondes orders and reluctantly held his hands in front of him, letting him take control and remove the red paint from them as best as he could.

As he was doing this, Philipp intently watched his boyfriend, trying to figure out if his boyfriend was mad or not that they couldn’t spend any time together this afternoon because Philipp had managed to blow their free time by involuntary volunteered to help out his history teacher. He wasn’t sure, he couldn’t quite make out the expression of hurt or disappointment on Manuel’s face but he was sure that the taller boy felt it inside some way or another. That was one thing that probably annoyed Philipp about his boyfriend was that, half the time, he could never understand what feeling or emotion he was expression because his face always had this neutral look about it.

He tilted his head up as he pondered in his mind, trying to figure his boyfriend out properly and when he couldn’t he just cut straight to the point. “You’re not mad at me are you? For, y’know, sort of cancelling our lunch date without meaning...to…?”

Manuel had his tongue stuck out the side of his mouth when he looked up, slowing the rubbing of Philipps hand and quickly shook his head smiling. “Of course I’m not, we’ll just go there a little later, I didn’t make reservations so we can go whenever.” He shrugged casually as if it wasn’t a big deal, maybe it was a little bit of a deal as Manuel had been looking forward to spending more time with Philipp but that was something that could wait so that they could treasure it more. “I can stay and help you do this, that way we’re spending more time with each other.” Manuel suggested, finishing wiping off the rest of the paint Philipp had managed to get on his hands. “There.”

“That would be amazing.” Philipp’s smile grew larger, allowing Manuel to see his pearly white all symmetrical and in order. “And thank you.” He whispered, getting on his toes as he wrapped his hands around his boyfriend’s waist, kissing him gently and softly.

Manuel immediately reacted to having Philipp’s soft, thin pairs of lips that he adored so much pressed against his own, making his chest tighten at the contact.

Their short kiss didn’t turn out to be short at all, they both found it impossible to pull away from each other, and now they found themselves, making out in the middle of a history classroom at their school, while Philipp’s history teacher could walk in at any time. They both had gone past the point of caring though, they were lost in each other’s embrace, and the way in which Philipp was running his hands through Manuel’s hair was driving him crazy. So he found himself picking the smaller boy up and pushing against the desk where Philipp had been painting only minutes ago. Unaware that Philipp now had a big red splat of paint on his trousers, they continued with their heated lip lock until the sound of the door clicking snapped them apart, and when they looked up, Philipp’s teacher was staring at them with a look of shock and scaredness on her face, the crash of the paints to the floor from her hand being the last thing Manuel remembered happening before embarrassment took over.

\---

The phone rang, stopping Thomas in the the middle of playing his piece of music, the sound of the piano ringing out Thelonious Monk’s 1944 classic “Round Midnight” slowly drifting out to a stop. The only remnants of it where form the keys of the piano steadying to a slow and mellow pause in being played.

Barbara, Thomas’ piano teacher - who also happened to be Miroslav’s mother, a torture in itself - answered the ringing phone before turning back to Thomas who sat there awkwardly, not knowing what else to do. “Keep going through the Rubato at the start then the second time in tempo, I’ll be back soon, I need to take this call.” Thomas nodded silently and watched her walk out into the kitchen with a flick of her shoulder length hair.

As soon as she was out of sight, Thomas breathed a sigh of relief and slouched his back slightly, rubbing the lower side of his back where there was a dull throbbing pain. Sometimes, he hated his piano lessons, not only because it was Miro’s mother, but because Barbara always expected Thomas to sit with his back as straight as a pole while he played. Because, _“all pianists have to look professional and have the right posture if they wanted to impress when they played their music”_ was something along the lines of Barbara always told him, which he believed was total bullshit. Playing the piano wasn’t about the professionalism of the clothes you wear or the way you sit, but the way your fingers were able to control the keys and drift along them effortlessly to create the most beautiful, natural sounding music to grace someones ears.

Thomas finished rubbing his back and stretched his arms out, letting out a tired yawn from his lips. He was glad that this was the last piano session of the month and that he didn’t have any more until the new year. Not that he didn’t enjoy playing the piano, but it was nice not having to rush here after school every time he had a lesson, as well as find himself in the same house as Mario.

Clicking his neck and knuckles, Thomas finally got about doing what Barbara had told him to do before she had left the room. The brunette wasn’t sure how long she would be gone, but he carried on practicing what she had told him and tried to perfect it as best as possible.

Miroslav walked mindlessly into the kitchen to fetch himself a glass of orange juice and maybe a sandwich. He was starving and yet again, his mother was far too busy with a client to cook him tea or even prepare it. He could do it himself, seeming that he could cook, but at the end of the day, that was too much hassle, so a sandwich - which took less through and time - was probably the best bet. He could always order pizza for himself afterwards anyway.

While in the mists of fetching the carton of orange juice from the fridge, he heard the sweet sound of smooth jazz filtering throughout the lower half of the house and found himself actually enjoying the sound. The senior wasn’t sure what the sound was, but it was pleasurable to be listening to.

He kept moving his hips casually as the piano played out, however, when he turned back around from pouring the juice into a slim glass, he came face to face with his mother, who had her phone cradled between her shoulder and ear. Miroslav took a step back from how close he found himself to his mother, even with the height difference, and frowned, wondering why her arm was stretched out and palm open, as if she wanted something. Not wanting to say anything and disturb her conversation - because god knows what the repercussions will be if he did - he watched intently as she pointed to the carton in his hand. Finally understanding his mother's wishes, Miroslav handed over the carton to his mother as he moved off to get his ingredients from his sandwich while his mother made herself a drink.

All the while still swaying to the smooth, slow jazz beat that was ringing out from the piano in the conservatory.

“Miroslav.” His mother called in a whispered kind of way, attracting the attention of her son. The senior faced his mother, who rolled her eyes seeing the slice of turkey that was hanging from his mouth as he did. “Thomas is here for his lesson, go say hello to him.” Once that name had left his mother’s lips, Miroslav perked up, his eyebrows raising and a little smirk appearing on his lips, before nodding at his mother.

Once Miro was aware that it was Thomas who was playing that divine sounding music, he disregarded the elements of the sandwich he was making and grabbed his orange juice, silently heading to the conservatory.

He didn’t bother in making a loud entrance to scare the boy. _God knows what would happen if I did, he’d probably end up with a broken arm, or worse, dead._ Instead, he took the silent option and leaned against the frame of the door, a few inches out of Thomas’ eyesight, and listened to him play, his arms crossed as he sipped at his orange juice.

Miroslav wasn’t sure how long that he was stood there, watching the boy playing the notes of the keys, sometimes, accidentally hitting the wrong one and having to start the piece over again, but all the time that he was stood there, he enjoyed. However, at the same time, Miroslav pondered rather thoroughly about this so called loud mouth Muller, because, every time he had ever talked to the boy, he was as quiet as a mouse. Miroslav thought about how other times, when he had passed him in the hallways of the school, or seen him at the dinner table, how loud and outgoing this individual was. How much he’d shout, backchat wittily to teachers, laugh, and everything else under the sun. But when it came to him, Thomas was a shadow of himself; he hardly spoke a word and when he did he managed to say the sentence backwards or choked on his words, he was clumsy and had managed to knock himself out, he seemed awkward and skittish. It just really didn’t add up for the senior how that could be the same boy with such contrasting personalities.

The beautiful sound of the piano soon drew to a close as Thomas stopped playing and clicked his fingers from cramp.

At this point, Miroslav though it would be a good time to speak up. “Y’know you're actually quite good at playing piano, I’ve never really noticed that.” The senior couldn’t help but smirk as the younger boy jumped around, startled. His elbow hitting against the keys of the piano and making a god awful sound to erupt, which made the two boys cringe.

Slowly, Miroslav made his way over the younger brunette, who looked as if he had seen a ghost seeming how white his face had gone and he still hadn’t uttered a word. The older boy placed his glass of orange juice on top of the piano, which made Thomas cringe even more; _Barbara hate when anything apart from sheet music is put on top of there_ , Thomas thought, but didn’t want to voice his words, mainly because this was Miroslav’s how, not his.

“So, what was that you were playing?” The senior asked, leaning against the piano as he let out a little smile.

Thomas hesitated at first, his mouth opening and closing in quick succession before he shakily took hold of the music sheet he was playing from. “U-uh...it’s it’s called R-round Midnight by...Thelonious Monk..” He cleared his throat and held the sheet for the Senior to read, licking his lips slightly.

Miroslav took the piece of paper gently from the boys hand and surveyed it for a few second, his eyebrows knitted together. As Miro did that, Thomas felt his heart doing flips in that moment. _How could someone look so cute looking confused?_ He thought, gulping audibly, but thankfully not loud enough for Miroslav to hear, as he still looked deep in confusion about the sheet of paper, before handing it back seconds later. “Yeah, I don’t get sheet music, it’s just all squiggly lines.” Miroslav chuckled as Thomas took back the sheet, their fingertips lightly brushing together as they did and the older boy watched as a small blush engulfed his cheeks, as he looked down. Thomas neatly placed the sheet of paper back on the stand and awkwardly sat there, not knowing what to say or do because never in a million years was he expecting to find himself in this situation. “Can I hear you play some more?” Thankfully, it seemed that Miroslav did.

Thomas blushed and glanced up at the boy who still had a slight smirk on his lips, before nodding his head. Though, he wasn't sure what kind of music he wanted to hear, maybe the same piece or a different one, he wasn’t sure and Miroslav noticed his slight hesitation. “Uh..I…”

“You can play whatever you like, whatever’s your favourite.” He shrugged his shoulders before crossing his arms.

The brunette nodded his head and with his shaking hands, picked up the other pieces of sheet music that was placed on top of the piano, he flipped through them, trying to find that right song, the sound he always loved to play and knew by heart.

_Andante in C Major, Biamonti 52 by Ludwig van Beethoven._

Once he had found the sheet, he placed it on the little holding rack and gulped as he placed his hands on the right keys. Then, with a deep intake of breath, he started to play the song, without looking up at the sheet. As the music changed tempo, only slightly, and he felt how this just changed his whole demeanour, how the music thrived through his body and started to control his hands, hitting each note perfectly at the right time and speed. Thomas was sure that he never played so well before, and although he had been playing piano since he was a little boy, he always found himself messing up, working too hard to actually play the song right. However, when it came to this song, Thomas just knew.

Miroslav watched on amazed as the sound that came from the way Thomas was playing, he was captivated by the way Thomas’ finger effortlessly glided along the keys as if it was the simplest task in the world. The senior was fascinated by it, and he found his insides turning at the sound, while a warm feeling took over his cheeks. _A-am I blushing?_ Miro pondered, shocked. _How could music make me blush?_

He moved a hand up to his cheek and felt the hotness from them, utterly confused. _It can’t be the music that is making me blush, it has to be something else…_ He pondered, still not removing his eyes from Thomas who seemed to be in a trance of playing beautiful music. Miroslav gulped and kept on watching, hoping his cheeks would cool down from the unexpectedness of their red heat soon before anyone noticed. Miroslav Klose just doesn’t blush and especially when he doesn’t know what it was foor.

The piece soon came to an end and Thomas drew his fingers delicately away form the keys, breathing out as he looked up with a shy smile on his lips. Miroslav smiled and clapped his hands, very impressed with the piece of music and how beautiful it was played. “That was amazing, I’m impressed.” thomas muttered a small thank you, which got caught in his throat, making the blush on his cheeks grow larger. They both fell silent for a moment and Miro kept glancing at the boy, still not understanding how someone so loud usually, could be so silent right now. _Although, my mother does have that effect on people_ , he thought, before shaking his head. “Can I ask you something Thomas?”

Thomas was a little taken back from the straightforwardness of Miro’s question, though he shouldn't be, it was a trait his mother had also. “Uh-uh, ye-ah.” His voice cracked again, making him cough uncomfortably.

“Why are you so quiet with me?” The question itself was straightforward from Miro, but it made Thomas freeze and gulp, because the answer wasn’t as simple. Miroslav noticed the long pause in answer and took this as a sign to carry on. “I mean, I hear you with your friends, laughing shouting, and the same with some of my friends, but when I talk to you, your silent, clumsy, it’s like...like you don’t want to speak to me at all.”

The younger boy sat at the piano, again gulped, but this time in fear, in fear of what he was supposed to say to him, without sounding like a jerk and without revealing the truth. He couldn’t exactly tell his crush he was crushing on him because he’ll probably have a heart attack. Again he found himself opening and closing his mouth in quick succession, now rods to fuel a reply. _God, is it hot in here or what?_ “Well, I-I, it’s not that...I don’t like you o-or anything…”

“Miroslav, you better not be terrorising my client.” It was if his prayer had been answered by God, even though he wasn’t praying, Miroslav’s mother, Barbara walked into the room, finished with her phone call. She raised her eyebrow and walked over to take the empty seat next to Thomas, laying a hand on his shoulder.

Miroslav smirked at his mother and down at Thomas a second later, shaking his head. “No of course not mother, he was just playing a song for me.” Miroslav gave the younger boy a smile and grabbed his half empty glass of orange juice off the the top of the piano. “I’m going to finish making my sandwich.” Thomas watched the senior saunter off, his eyes catching his ass in those pair of jeans before a larger blush captured his cheek. _Don’t make it obvious Thomas._ He thought and turned back to Barbara, who was smirking. Thomas gulped, knowing that he had managed to dodge a bullet that was so close to his chest, and he couldn’t believe it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Such a loooong chapter but so many aspects that I had to fit in! I hope that you guys love this as much as I loved writing this chapter! Comments and Kudos! Love ya'll!
> 
> Oh and thank to ORANGINA for helping me with jazz piano music ;)


	8. Worrying Solves Nothing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pupils of München Comprehensive are deep into the everlasting winter term, boredom set in a long time ago, and now school seems to be the most hated place on the planet. But this doesn't strictly mean that nothing eventful ever happens...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Manuel "trouble" Neuer and Philipp "paint bottom" Lahm.
> 
> Brotherly love between Mario and Fabian.
> 
> A change of rolls with Thomas and Benedikt, sort of.

Philipp and Manuel both sat there, expressionless, emotionless and silent.

And the same could go fro Philipp’s history teacher, Mrs Kellermann, who had her hands clasped together and lightly swung from side to side in her chair, staring down at her desk.

The seniors honestly did not know what to say or do, they had never found themselves in a situation like this and it was the most awkward thing that could happen - in Philipp’s opinion anyway. And especially from a teacher that respected him.

Mrs Kellermann, herself, had never found herself with this kind of situation to deal with this either. She had never caught two pupils, both male, making out heavily in her own classroom, and it scared her a little. So, instead of freaking out about it, she took this as a learning curve. An opportunity to prove that this wasn’t something that would hinder the view on school pupils or her career, but something that could broaden her horizons, open up her knowledge, so if something like this happened again, she could be prepared.

The first one to break the silence and gather the attention of the history teacher was Manuel. He wasn’t sure why he felt the need to break it with what he said and he wasn’t sure why he said what he said, but he did. Without thinking first. “Well I guess, you weren’t expecting to find a gay couple making out in your classroom, anytime soon, right Miss?” Manuel chuckled nervously.

Philipp just facepalmed, turning to his stupid boyfriend and staring at him with eyes full of furry, while an expression full of embarrassment took over his face. Manuel turned from the teacher, who still hadn’t responded, and to his boyfriend, to see the death glare from hell etched all over him. _If looks could kill, then I’d be dead right now_ , Manuel thought, gulping and bowing his head away from his unimpressed boyfriend.

The tall blonde wiped his sweaty palms against his school trousers, hoping for this torture to be over soon so that they could both escape this hell hole. Though, per usual, it seemed as though the odds were stacked against the pair. Mrs Kellermann, finally spoke up for the first time since...well since she walked in on the both of them getting heated on her table. “I don’t find your remark very funny, Mr Neuer, in fact, I find it highly inappropriate given the situation you are both in.”

The dirty blonde closed his mouth immediately and was planning on keeping that way for the whole time, unless he was asked to speak - and Philipp hope for the same thing. His boyfriend really knew when to dig a hole for himself. “Sorry, Miss.” He answered in a small voice, straightening his back in the chair he was occupying.

Mrs Kellermann nodded her head, and crossed her legs. The room was silenced again, and the three of them sat there like they had before, though, this time Mrs Kellermann was actually trying to formulate a string of words that could best fit and explain this whole...fiasco. Keeping her calm demeanour, that she had adopted soon after walking in on the pair, she shifted in her seat slightly to lean on her hand, directly looking at the two boys. “Words just… honestly, escape me right now. I’m speechless. To walk in and see that happening in my classroom has really… disgusted me.”

Philipp bowed his head slightly in shame, although his hand gripped at the arm of the chair he was sitting at, angry and frustrated, but mostly hurt by what his History teacher had just said. He took a quick glance over to Manuel, seeing his head now looking out the window and jaw tightly locked. However expressionless Manuel’s face could be at times, there was no disguising such a disgusted, pissed off look his boyfriend had adopted. Philipp wanted to turn around and defend their relationship for that off hand comment from his teacher, however, he knew that if he argued back against a woman of her calibra, he’d end up suspended or something stupid like that. So, they both kept quiet, biting their tongues.

“Never in my fifteen years of teaching have I ever came across something so lewd and inappropriate as that.” Mrs Kellermann shook her head, a slight flare of her nostrils and click of the tongue followed. “To have the cheek to turn round and do it in my own classroom…Do you not hold any respect for your school? For you teachers? For being given the opportunity to be educated?” The pair stayed silent, their heads still slightly bowed. Mrs Kellermann, after a pause, soon directed her attention to her pupil. “And you, Philipp, one of my most humble and respected students, to do something so unacceptable, well, it was one thing I was never expecting. It shocked me.”

Philipp glanced up from fiddling with his thumbs in his lap, sincerity etched over his face as he looked back at her. “I’m sorry Miss, w-we didn’t mean for it to happen. I-it was supposed to be a small kiss-”

Mrs Kellermann held up her hand and as soon as she did that, the small, light brown haired senior stopped what he was saying and zipped his mouth shut.  _What was the point in trying to justify it to her anyway, she won’t understand._  Instead of answering Philipp’s small justification,  _if it could be called that_ , Mrs Kellermann soon focused her attention to the dirty blonde that was sat the chair over from her prized pupil. She lent forward, uncrossing her legs and adjusted her set of textbooks.

At this point, Manuel, who looked just as pissed off as she did, stopped staring out of the window and turned to her. He had adopted the whole “casual” attitude towards this woman after what she said concerning their relationships and their gender. The senior had his head resting on his arm and was slouched down in his seat, sat with his legs open.

They both stared at one another for a few seconds, while Philipp looked one, surprised at his boyfriend's attitude, and how he hadn’t flipped out yet.

“Now, you, Mr Neuer-”

“It’s Manuel.” Manuel was quick to interrupt, he didn’t like to be referred to as that, it made him feel like he was being patronised. By calling him “Mr Neuer” she was indicating that he frankly wasn’t old enough to prove himself a man and that, as long as he wore a school uniform, he was still a child. “Mr Neuer is my father.”

Manuel saw the slight irritation Mrs Kellermann expressed after being interrupted and he couldn’t help but smirk - on the inside of course. _Teacher 0, Manuel 1._

“Yes, Manuel.” Mrs Kellermann answered, deliberately putting more emphasis on his name. “As I was saying before you rudely interrupted me; you’re a problem.” That comment raised a few eyebrows, mainly Philipps.  _When had Manuel been a problem?_  “I’ve seen you, around the hallways, hanging around with that Hummels boy and terrorising the younger years, and now I come into my classroom and find you causing more trouble with that little stunt that you pulled with Philipp.” Mrs Kellermann shook her head in disappointment, ignoring the glares from the two seniors, who were rightly pissed off. “It’s really disappointing to see your best pupil hanging around with a trouble maker.”

Philipp bit the inside of his lip, his breathing gradually getting heavier as he tried to hold himself back from biting, but he knew that he couldn’t keep it up for much longer.

“I’m sorry Miss, but all what you said is wrong.” Philipp burst, sitting on the edge of his seat. “Manuel is far from a trouble maker, we might be friend with someone who gets in trouble from time to time, but that doesn’t mean he influences us to do things like that too.”

Manuel glanced over at Philipp and reached for his hand, not taking any notice of the stupid history teacher,  _who frankly was talking horseshit_. He laced their fingers together. “Fips just calm down okay?”

He tried to sooth his angry boyfriend from Mrs Kellermann’s comment but his heart was already set. “He is my, loving, caring boyfriend, who was just showing me affection. I admit that we got a little carried away, but you have no right to subject him to something he’s not.”

Mrs Kellermann stared at the young brown haired boy, sat forward in her classroom chair and studied him for a moment.  _Maybe I was a little too harsh on the pair but if I turn around and apologise then that’s going to make me look weak_ , she mused to herself before breaking her own silence. “That is your opinion Philipp, I’ll stick by mine.” She answered strongly, leaning forward. “The main fact is that you subsequently broke school rules with your actions, which leaves me with no choice but to inform your parents about this.”

Those last words from Mrs Kellermann subsequently meant that both boys were frozen in a state of shock and terror. Philipps eyes were wide and his heart beating so fast and painful that he was sure he was having a heart attack. Manuel was in a position of stunned unknowing and he gulped back the lump that had appeared in his throat. “C-come again.” Manuel commented, wanting to make sure what he heard was actually _what he heard._  


“I’ll be notifying your parents on what has happened.” Mrs Kellermann answered calmly, not getting why Philipp was hyperventilating the way he was. “It’s school policy to report anything such as this happening on school grounds.”

When Manu was sure that he had heard right by the teacher, he turned his attention to his boyfriend who had an expression that screamed pain. He didn’t speak but instead squeezed his hand tightly, letting Philipp know that he was there and he wasn’t going to let any of that happen, or let him have a panic attack either. Philipp’s hands had now become clammy to touch and he was sweating a lot more than he usually would, especially for winter time. Manuel unwrapped his own hand from the boys and placed it on his back, rubbing it in a circular motion to try and calm Philipp down as he choked out several words.

“N-no Miss, you c-can’t do that! Pl-ease don’t do that!” He squeaked, taking deep breaths now.

Mrs Kellermann was very non-understanding in these moments, and was mesmerized by Philipp’s reaction to her own words. _Was there anything wrong in what I said?_   “Philipp it’s a justifiable reason to call your parents, we do it with any pupils who have done the same, or even worse than you. And sometimes we suspend them as well.”

That only seemed to make Philipp even worse and his deep, slow breathing went out the window within second, soon replaced by dried eyed sobs.

Manuel, himself, was only managing to keep it together when he moved his chair closer and wrapped his arm around his boyfriend, who was no quivering against his neck. He rubbed his side, trying to calm the small boy and hoping that being in his protective arms would soon sooth him. The taller boy gave him a kiss on the head before turning his attention to a very confused teacher. “Miss, please, you can’t tell our parents.”

“And why is that?” She raised her eyebrow.

Philipp looked up at Manuel, tears shining in his eyes and Manuel nodded his head, understanding the look. “They don’t know that we’re gay, that we’re even together. A-and, if you tell them, there’s a strong possibility that they won’t agree with us, and we’ won’t be able to be together…” Philipp hugged Manuel’s waist, hearing the slight crack of his voice as it drifted off.

Mrs Kellermann was shocked herself when she heard those words come from Manuel’s mouth. It was honestly something she wasn’t expecting. These days anyones sexual orientation was taken casually; if you liked men, then you’re free to like them as you please, if you like women, the same goes, and so it does for if you like both genders. So, when Manuel voiced that, it took her back quite a bit. She couldn’t understand how anyone could be against a relationship, whether it two males or not, where love and affection was so strong. And this was what she was seeing in front of her. A relationship built on love, built on affection, built on trust and so much more that her own heart swelled.

She didn’t speak a word for a while, which worried Manuel, and now tears were bordering his own eyes. “Please Miss. I know you may think I’m a problem, but I just don’t want our relationship to suffer if you make that phone call, because it will. My parents, they don’t understand people like me or Philipp, they hate us.”

As she stared at the two boys, holding each other in their arms, her heart went out to them. Teenage love was something oh so familiar to herself. She could remember when she was that age, finding a new love, and being so happy, yet the unmistakable wrath of her parents holding her back, saying that she was too young, too naive to be with this boy.

Her heart softened, along with her facial expression, from ice cold to warm and tender. She glanced at the mess of the paint on the giant “H” sign, to her desk where her note lay ' _Phone Philipp Lahm and Manuel Neuer’s parents’_   and put a giant red pen line through it. She clasped her hands together as she looked up at the pair, who were now more calm yet still had pleading looks on their faces. “I guess that I can let this little incident slide...” Both Manuel and Philipp’s faces lit up in relief and gratitude, and Philipp tightly hugged his boyfriend smiling, seemingly over his five minutes of panic.

“Thanks you so much Miss, thank you!” Philipp jumped to his feet and gathered his bag, already ready to leave. Manuel followed suit, a little calmer than the smaller one who had already rushed to the door.

Though Mrs Kellermann stopped them both early. “Ah-ah, don’t think you’re getting away that easily, I’m placing you both on a warning and you can both help me with this sign soon.” She warned, pointing at the both of them, before dismissing. Philipp bounded out of the room, however, instead of following him, Manuel stayed behind and headed towards the desk.

“Uh Miss?” Mrs Kellermann looked up at the sound of her voice being called and was surprised to see Manuel still there. “Thank you, it means a lot to us, especially Fips.” Manuel smiled and Mrs Kellermann couldn’t help but smile back, seeing the gratitude in his words. She watched on smiling, as the young senior headed out of the classroom and shut the door behind him, feeling her heart express that she had done the right thing.

Outside the classroom, Philipp hugged Manuel tightly and didn’t seem to want to let go, but when hw did, still keeping his arms around the taller boys neck, the smile he had on his lips just seemed to grow larger. “So, we still on for lunch?” Manuel asked with an innocent, affectionate half smile as his thumbs ran circles along Philipp’s exposed skin of his sides.

Philipp nodded happily and his grumbling stomach justified their choice. “Of course, I think we a have a little more reason to celebrate now.” He chuckled, pulling away before starting to walk off towards the front doors. Manuel himself was just about to follow his boyfriend, when he noticed a big reddish splat of paint on the Philipp’s trousers, on his left ass cheek. At first he wondered how that mark of paint had got there, but then it hit him, it was when he was lifting Philipp up onto the table, he must’ve stuck him in the paint. _How didn’t I notice that?_  He thought before glancing back down at his boyfriends ass, shaking his head. _How the hell hasn’t Fip’s noticed it?_   “Manu, you coming or what?”

Philipp’s voice pulled Manu’s attention from the red paint and to his boyfriend pouting face. He nodded his head in response and pulled his bag over his shoulder, catching up to him and grabbing his hand to hold. Manuel decided not to tell him about the big red stain of paint on his ass, he’d been through enough for today already, he didn’t want to go through further embarrassment.

“What you smirking at eh?” Philipp glanced up and questioned as his hand slipped around Manu’s waist.

Manuel slung his arm around Philipp’s shoulder as he placed a soft kiss on his temple. “Oh nothing Fips.” He smirked.

\---

There was a knock at the door and Mario quickly used his bed cover to wipe away the small droplets that had gathered around his eyes. He cleared his throat. “C-come in.” But just doing that didn’t help with the raspiness of his voice, as much as he tried.

He pulled the cover up to his nose, hoping that would help hide his red cheeks and running nose, and held his breath as the door opened. When it did, only a little, Mario saw his older brother, Fabian, poking his head through and surveying the dark bedroom, only lit by Mario’s lamp, which lit up one half of his face, in a yellowish glow. Spotting his younger brother in the little light, Fabian opened the door more and entered, slipping in and closing the door behind him.

“Hey.” He whispered, even though there was need to.

Mario sniffed, half relieved that it wasn’t his mother that had entered - knowing what would happen if she saw him the way he was right now - yet, half intimated that it was his brother. He was nervous, of sorts, because he was sure that his mother had sent Fabian upstairs to see what was a matter with him. The younger boy was sure his older brother wouldn’t come willingly unless there was a reason.

“Hi.” Mario whispered back, staying with the covered, pulled up to his nose, almost hiding himself underneath it. He was in no mood to be disturbed, and Fabian was aware of that.

He was also aware of the fact that Mario hadn’t been himself the past couple of days; how quiet he had been, how little he had eaten, how he’d just trudge up to his room after he got home and lock himself in there for the rest of the night - which was exactly the same case tonight. And honestly, Fabian was starting to get worried for his little brother. “There’s some left over meatball and butter bean stew for you downstairs. Mum’s put it in the microwave, if you want it later.”

Though, as last night, Mario shook his head. “I’m not hungry.” He answered shortly, pulling cover further up and around him. Fabian sighed hearing that and closed his eyes for a second, but not bothering in taking any steps forwards from his position, leaning against the bedroom door.

“Have you actually ate anything in the last few days Mario?” The older boy questioned, raising his eyebrow in a suspicious manner.

Mario shrugged his shoulders, not that his brother could really see from the lack of light. “Y-yeah.” He stammered, biting his lip. In truth, Mario hadn’t eat more than a chocolate bar in two days. But it wasn’t his fault, he couldn’t help but lose his appetite after everything that had happened, and now, what happened today, just made everything worse, because now, Andre knew and everything just seemed to be blown out of proportion. No wonder he had no appetite.

Fabian stood silent, staring his brother down with a deadly raised eyebrow. He wasn’t believing him one bit at the moment. “What have you eaten then?”

“A...uh...chocolate bar.” The younger brunette barely murmured against the covers,bowing his head slightly.

His older brothers eyes widened in what only could be described as shock. “A chocolate bar?” He sounded in a disbelieving way. “A-am I hearing right?” Fabian asked himself, shaking his head. “You’re telling me, that you’ve had a single chocolate bar over two days?” Mario gulped and nodded his head sheepishly; _that’s not the worst of it._  

“W-we-well, um.” He gulped harder, trying to control the undying lump that was gathering in the back of his throat. “I sort of, threw back up as well.” By the time those words fell from his mouth, Mario was looking anywhere but his brother. _How could I?_  He knew the reaction his brother was going to give and it wasn’t a good one. Anyway, it wasn't his fault that he had thrown back up the only thing that he had managed to stomach these past couple of days. The stress, the pain, everything, was taking its toll on him and he found himself unable to keep down the simplest of things.

Fury seemed to enter Fabians systems, lighting up his eyes like frames as he curled his fist, trying to understand what the hell was going on with his younger brother. “You threw it back up?” He gritted through his teeth.

“S-sort of…” Mario trailed off, whimpering ever so slightly, but so silently that his brother was sure not to be able to hear. He could now feel the tears that had once stained his cheeks, reappearing in his eyes, though he held onto them, not wanting to cry in front of brother especially his older brother in fact.

“So your telling me, that all you’ve had over the past two days is a chocolate bar and you threw it up?!” He roared, in a minimal sense of the word. To Mario it _seemed_ like a roar, but in fact it was probably only a low bark that wouldn’t gather the attention of everyone downstairs. “God Mario, why the hell are you doing this? Why the hell, would you eat nothing huh? What is it? Some sort of cry for attention, or, or, I-I don’t know. Just whatever you’re doing stop doing because you’re making yourself ill!” Fabian barked even more, pacing back and forth, but no daring move closer to his brother. He took a deep breath, composing himself before facing his little brother who looked lost and scared, wrapped up in the covers of his bed. Fabian looked over his brothers figure and sighed internally. He knew something was seriously wrong, just by looking at him. “Mario…” The older boy sighed, slowly walking forward and settling on the edge of the bed. “Mum’s really worried about you, so is dad, and I am too. What’s the matter?”

“N-nothing.” Mario replied within seconds, not letting down any of his guards on the matter.

Fabian, again, didn’t believe him at all, and he spent a few moments studying his brother. From where he was positioned now, he could see his brother in a better light, his light was more lit up than when further away, meaning that Fabian was able to notice more things. And the most striking thing that he saw was his little brothers, red, swollen eyes, a sure indicator that he had been crying.  _What could have made him cry?_   That was something that Fabian was really stuck on, but he did feel his heart fall to his stomach just from thinking that his little brother had been up here, crying all night, and not a single person has come to check on him - mainly because Mario told people to go away and leave him alone, but that’s not the point.

Mario stared back at his brother for a second, glanced down at his hand that he had removed from the cover, which held a tissue in. He was sure by now, form the expression on his older brothers face, that he knew Mario had been crying. It was obvious, his eyes were as chubby and red as he cheeks were.

There was a slight movement which caught Mario’s attention and he darted his eyes back up to his brother who moved himself further on to the bed, pulling his whole body on and crossing his legs. Staying where he sat, at the end of the bed, he spoke; “I hope you know that you can tell me anything. I might be horrible to you sometimes -”  _Ha, ain’t that the truth_ , Mario thought. “But, I’m still your older brother and I still care for you. So, when you're ready to tell me what’s wrong, I’ll be right here.” Fabian whispered, not wanting to raise his voice any higher but also making it clear that he wasn’t leaving his brothers bedroom until he got a straight answer from him.  _Hell, I’ll stay here all night if I have to._  

Mario stared at his brother in wonder, never had he ever been this nice to him, he was always trying to wind him up, piss him off and get him in trouble. Yet, right now, his brother actually showed some care towards his younger brother and that made Mario feel like he had someone that actually cared for him. _Okay, I have my parents and grandparents, and friends_ , he thought, _but to have my own brother showing me he actually had empathy for me, it was something different._  It felt like his brother was showing him recognition for once, and he wanted to show gratitude back for his brothers actions.

However much he wanted to do that for his brother, though, Mario looked back down at his hands, which he fiddled with.   _How was I supposed gratitude to my brother when I am a mess myself? All I’m doing is wallowing in self pity, crying my eyes out because I’m a freak, who doesn’t know how to do a single thing right without hurting anyone…_

As soon as those thoughts had passed through his head, Mario found him unable to hold back the tears. And as he captured his brothers attention again, he burst out in tears, quietly sobbing.

Fabian was taken back by how suddenly Mario’s emotions change - though he was half expecting him to cry, but not in this way - and he sat there, on the edge of the bed, not really knowing what to do. He was never good with anyone who cried or was upset, a pat on the back was as far he had ever gone when anyone would cry.  _Well unless it was mother, then I would hug her_  , He mused.

_Maybe I should hug him?_

And that is exactly what he did.

Crawling slightly up the bed so that he was now seated on the outside part of the bed, Fabian hesitantly wrapped his arms around his brothers back and pulled him against him, rubbing his back. At first, Mario was stiff in his embrace, shocked at what Fabian was doing. But soon a flush of emotions took over Mario’s system again and he relaxed into his older brothers arms, clinging to the material of his top and sobbing into the crook of his neck.

It was very small action, but a significant one at that. Mario, never imagined in a million years, that his brother would hug him the way he was right now. And Fabian, never imagined that he would hold his younger brother in his arms as he cried his heart out - he was still perplexed as to why, but that could wait. He felt his own eyes well up as they continued to hug and Mario continued to cry. Even if he didn’t know what Mario was crying about, to see his brother so hurt, so distressed to the point that he was gladly let him hold him, it hit Fabian hard.

They both stayed like that for what seemed forever, Fabian letting Mario cry as much as he wanted until he calmed down, and Mario was very thankful that he left his brother do so. although, he was a little ashamed when he pulled back, seeing the damp patch on Fabian’s shirt.

“I’m sorry.” Mario raspily replied, his voice losing its depth due to how much crying he had been doing. He wiped his dried out tears with the sleeve of his shirt.

Fabian let out a small smile onto his lips. “It’s alright.” He whispered, still keeping a soothing tone of voice, one not full of hate, nor annoyance, because he simply wasn’t. Fabian was glad.

Glad that his brother finally opened up enough to trust him, still without words involved.

But that was all about to change, as Mario leant back against his pushed up pillows and sighed, looking away. “Guess I should explain the whole crying thing.” He chuckled, clearing his throat and still wiping underneath his eyes, which he could imagine were swollen and red.

“That would be a good idea, yeah.” Fabian chuckled back.

Mario took a deep breath, he already felt his heart speeding up, and it had just slowed down after his little embarrassing episode of crying in his older brothers arms. _Something about it being an older brother, just makes it that much more humiliating._  “I’ve messed up.” He shrugged. And that was just the simplicity of it, underneath, there was much more than that. Though Mario wasn’t sure if he should tell his brother.

Fabian frown at Mario. “Messed up?” Mario nodded shortly, not meeting his eyes. “In what way?” The older brunette waited patiently for an answer, but a shrug of the shoulders from the younger boy, didn’t justify it enough. Why would some cry that much and shrug it off? “Did you get detention again? Suspended from school? Have you got into a fight? Have you failed at anything?” Still not an answer. “Mario you can’t just cry like that and not tell me, or act li-”

“I kissed Marco.”

The room fell silent, the only noise came from the humming of  Mario’s computer.

Fabian wasn’t sure he had heard right because he was sure that his brother had just said that he had kissed Marco. “I-I’m sorry, I thought you just said that you kissed Marco.” He coked, convinced that he was now hearing things.

But it seemed that he wasn’t as Mario shook his head. “You’re not, I said that.” His breathing hitched a little and Fabian heard him gulp, still refusing to look his way. The older boy was shocked by the news, he was having a hard time digesting it, understanding it, though it was pure and simple. _He had kissed his best friend, Marco._   “We kissed when he was over the other night.” _Well, it was hardly a kiss, more like a full blown make up session stuck at 2nd base_  , Mario thought, but had no intentions of telling his brother that.

While Mario stared off into his own little world, Fabian was still, thinking things through.

He wasn’t mad, of course he wasn’t, why would he be? Whoever Mario kissed, or liked, or dated even, was none of his business and he accepted that. Mario was still his brother no matter what gender he liked. Nevertheless, there was one thing that wasn’t adding up, why Mario was crying.

“I don’t get it,” Fabian replied after a few more seconds of debating with himself. Mario whipped his head round to his brother. “Why are crying then? If you kissed Marco, then why you crying…I didn’t even know you liked guys!”

Fabian watched as his younger brother’s nostrils flared slightly and how scratched the back of his neck. All traits that alerted him that his brother was nervous. “I-I don’t like guys...at least I thought I never,” Mario gulped, scratching the tip of his nose (another trait). “But then-Marco...there’s something about him...something special.” Fabian saw Mario’s eyes light up, shine, but not with tears, something else. “A-and, I don’t know what came over me, I just had to kiss him in that moment and-”

“He didn’t kiss you back.”

Mario quickly shook his head, proving him wrong. “No, he did...he kissed back like I did…” The younger brunette crossed his arms over his chest, becoming more fidgety and nerved. “We kissed for most the night, and I fell asleep in his arms. When morning came, I woke up in his arms, and I looked up; he was about to kiss me...I-I just don’t know what happened to me in those moments, I freaked out, and I jumped back. I told him that kissing him was a mistake and that it’ll never happen again. The look on his face, so pained, so pale, so heartbroken. It hurt me more than I ever imagined, we haven’t talked in two days, he won’t even look me in the eyes. I’m such a fool!”

Fabian could physically hear the pain in Mario’s voice.

He didn’t know what to do, as he had mentioned before he wasn’t really good with the whole emotion overload, comforting things, so he opted for laying his own hand on top of his brothers; in a comforting way. “You’re not a fool Mario, you’re far from it.”

“I am…” Mario sobbed, feeling himself shake from the sobs he was trying not to let them out. “I mean, what kind of person turns around and says that?” He whispered, hating himself. “I’m a monster, I hate myself.”

Fabian shook his head strongly, not really believing that Mario could say something like that about himself. “Mario, you’re not a fool, nor a monster, and you certainly shouldn’t hate yourself over what you said. I understand that Marco is probably angry or hurt by what you said, and might not want to talk to you at the moment, but it doesn’t mean that he hates you, or whatever. he was probably as shocked as you were when you said that. I’d leave it for a while, let everything settle down before talking to him, alone.” Mario listened carefully to his words.  _Maybe, he was right._   “Mistakes are a part of being human. Appreciate your mistakes for what they are: precious life lessons that can only be learned the hard way.” Fabian shrugged.

_Okay, that was a valid point as well._  Mario mused, hiccuping as he still tried to calm down. And after a while, he found that his brothers words - after he allowed them time to sink in - were very true indeed. Mario didn’t have to hate himself over a mistake that he even shocked himself in making, though, what he did know was that he needed to make amends with Marco, but for now, the right thing to do was leave it.

“That was a nice quote y’know.” Mario commented a few minutes later, turning to his older brother with a small smile on his lips.

Fabian chuckled lightly, moving his hand that was resting on Mario’s arm to hit him around the head lightly. “Well, y’know, you have to pull one or two at out the bag at some point.” He shrugged, smirking.

Mario pushed Fabians shoulder, shaking his head at his brothers cockiness, but when Fabian pushed back, Mario’s smile dropped, and he pushed him back again. It soon managed to turn into a shoving match between the two brothers, who were smirking at each other, but both determined to wind the other up as much as possible. Mario couldn’t help but smile though, at least he knew that his brother was always on hand to- “Boys, will you stop messing about!”

\---

_God, did he ever shut up?_

Benedikt asked himself in exhaustion, lightly hitting his head against the cushioned seats of the cinema screening.

The answer was no, and he already knew that, but Benedikt was hoping for some leeway from the boys noises, and that’s why he brought him to the cinema; somewhere where you're expected to be quiet. But, if he wasn’t talking, he was eating as loud as a pig would

Of course he was on about Thomas.

Who else in this world who he be talking about? Thomas was the only human being who snored when he was awake. _Fact._  

Benedikt tried to compose himself with the boy sat next to him was chomping on the salted popcorn like it was a piece of celery. But he found, as time went on, he was getting more and more distracted by Thomas, who seemed oblivious to his own actions, unsurprisingly. And as much as he tried to focus on the film - which up to this point he had been enjoying - he found that all efforts was lost.

“Will you stop stuffing your face with popcorn? You sound like a fucking pig in a troff!” Benedikt raised his voice, only slightly, which gathered the attention of some people sat below them. They turned around with faces of annoyance and the blonde just stared back, mirroring their look. “Maybe if you shut up I could hear the movie.” He gritted.

Thomas stopped eating, holding a few pieces of popcorn a few millimeters away from him mouth. “It’s not my fault you can’t hear the movie, and anyway, I always eat when I’m worried.”

Benni couldn’t help but roll his eyes as he turned back to the movie, ignoring Thomas’ comments, which were frankly just shit. He finally managed to get a little quiet from the brunette beside him who had now stopped eating, meaning that he could focus on the film again. He watched as Charlie Day rant to Chris Pine who he sat in the middle of the back seats, and Benedikt found himself unable to stop laughing at how high and squeaky the former’s voice went. He was now glad that Thomas had picked the movie - _‘Horrible Bosses 2’_  - because he was really enjoying it, more than he expected. Even after having watched the first one a couple of days ago because Thomas forced him to.

He had admit the second was much better, unlike any other sequels he had seen from other movies.

Thomas glanced the way of his blonde friend, who was laughing and enjoy the movie, before slowly and quietly picking up a few pieces of popcorn from the bag in his hands. He didn’t take his eyes of Benedikt, willing that he wouldn’t talk around, as he stuffed them in his mouth again.

“God sake, Thomas!” Benedikt whipped his head around to see Thomas with a mouth full of popcorn. With eyes full of red rage, Benedikt snatched the bag of popcorn from his friend and the it to the seat beside him. “How is it generally impossible for you to shut up? I just don’t understand it, h-how do you do it?”

Though it was dark in the cinema, Thomas could see the burning rage that lit up Benedikt’s usually dark eyes, and all that he could think in return is ' _how can someones eyes fill with so much fire? How was that even possible?’._ “I-I don’t know...”

Benedikt raised his eyebrow. “Alright, lets cut to it.” He said bluntly, turning his body around to face the brunette.

“Cut to what?” The brunette asked, looking over at the blonde with the look of pure innocence of his face, but he knew what he was really on about, of course he did. Benedikt could read him like a boy, a children's book.

“Don’t act naive with me Thomas, you are one of the worst liars around.” Thomas gulped and looked back at the screen, trying to avoid his friends confrontation. Yet, one thing that Thomas knew was about to happen was the blow to his arm from Benni’s fist, telling him that maybe he should face his friend again. Thomas turned back to Benedikt, and there was no change in expression, in any way. “What’s Miroslav done now?” Blunt and straight to the point, and that was just a general outline of Benedikt.

Immediately as that question came from Benni’s mouth, Thomas lowered his head in shame. “is it that obvious?” He murmured, still trying to keep his voice low for the sake of the people below them who were trying to watch the movie.

Benedikt nodded and shrugged at the same time. “You’re not one to be worried, so it’s easy to figure out.” He casually added.

Thomas sighed,  _he was right, I never got worried, not even for exam shit_.

“So you going to tell me what he has done now? You didn’t knock yourself out again, trying to get away from him did you?” He teased, Thomas nudging his shoulder slightly. Of course Thomas had let slip what had happened the day he was late to his music lesson. Well, there was no way of hiding it from the blonde. Not only did he have a bright red and purple on his head, but, as Benedikt has said before, he wasn’t the best of liars, in fact, probably the worst.

“No, no, nothing that stupid...actually, nothing stupid at all…” Thomas blushed, glad the darkness masked most of the light. Before Benni had chance to make another sarcastically teasing comment, Thomas continued. “I was at my piano lesson, when Barbara had to take a phone call and told me to practice, so I did.” Benni nodded his head, frowning and not really understanding how Thomas could be worried over that.

Thus, he intervened for a second. “She didn’t give you a bad grade did she?”

The boy next to him shook his head. “No.” He laughed. “I had an A for this month.” _Smart ass,_  Benedikt thought as Thomas beemed. “Anyway...when I finished practicing, I heard Miro from behind me saying he didn’t know I played that well, and then he asked me to play another, my favourite or one I knew, so I did.” Now it was time for Thomas to gulp, and he did as he took a lengthy sip of his Diet Pepsi, making Benni wait impatiently. “When I finished playing that song, I looked up and saw him studying me, and then all of a sudden he turned really serious, like no smirk or anything. Then he asked me why I was so shy around him and didn’t talk to him.”

Benni’s eyes widened at that and he now found himself starting to freak out slightly for his friend, because he knew if he was put in that situation, he freak, have the cold sweats and probably run until he couldn’t run anymore. “And what did you say?”

“Well, I-I went to say that I never did...but his mother walked in and told him to stop distracting me.” Thomas blushed. A blush, that this time benedikt was able to see from the small glow of light that the movie screen brought to their faces. “He just walked away then, and I watched him do so, relieved. But the worst part is, when I turned back to Barbara she noticed I was staring at his ass.”

Benni snorted , throwing his head back as the light fluffing of pink on Thomas’ cheeks turned into a deep crimson.

“Sssh!” The people in front of them, turned back, making Benedikt roll his eyes, his tolerance levels getting short.

“Oh shut up you bunch of primadonna’s, it’s the cinema, not the fucking library.” Benedikt whispered back, shaking his head and snarling at the people in front of them. He picked up the packet of popcorn from the eat he had originally put it on, and opened it, starting to do what all great Muller could, and started to crunch on the kernels.

Thomas rested his cheek on his hand, pouting. “It’s not funny Benni, it’s so difficult.”

Benedikt picked up a handful of popcorn and shoved it all into his mouth, watching the little pieces fly off beneath him, hoping that they fell on the annoying trio below. “Look Thomas, we all deal with crushes, and we just have to learn to cope with them, and that’s what you have to do with Miro.” Benni said, not bothering to look beside him. “That, or you could just tell him.” Benedikt shrugged the most casual shrug Thomas had seen before, deliberately crunching on the popcorn loudly to annoy those in front of him who had told them to be quiet.

Thomas’ breath hitched. _He had to be joking...he definitely was joking around...I couldn’t do something like that ever_. Thomas stared blindly at the screen, shocked at the casualness Benedikt had made Thomas’ crush seem. He was now sure that Benedikt Howedes was insane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uuugh guys, I'm so sorry that I've took so long updating this but I have a couple of unexpected assignments and deadlines show up, pluuus the same old revision :/ But I managed to finish the chapter! Yaaaay! I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> I'm not sure when the next update will be as I'm heading to London this weekend (whoooop) as my dad's running the London Marathon, aaaand I have an exam 11th May and then 15th May too! But I'll do my best, and write whenever I can. 
> 
> Kudos and comments are always welcome.


	9. Shakespeare's Language

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> High School AU
> 
> The pupils of München Comprehensive are deep into the everlasting winter term, boredom set in a long time ago, and now school seems to be the most hated place on the planet. But this doesn't strictly mean that nothing eventful ever happens...
> 
> Welcome to München Comprehensive, would you like a piece of rope to go with that chair?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marco needs help from his best friend.
> 
> Mats vs Benni x3
> 
> Bastian and Lukas notice finer details about each other.

_‘A fool thinks himself to be wise, but a wise man knows himself to be a fool.’_

Marco highlighted the quote with his blue marker, then stopped. He read it again, tapping the tip of the highlighter against his lip, creating a blue stain, and frowned.

The quote itself seemed obvious in it’s nature, yet, Marco knew there was more to it than that. Shakespeare always layered every word or phrase that he said. Just by studying the great playwright, even if he didn’t take that much notice in class, he had learnt that Shakespeare was a very inspiring, intelligent man, who provided the world with some of the best tragedies’ like Hamlet.

Of which he was attempting to read right now.

Marco’s eyes scattered across the quote he found, on the second page of his copy, and he just couldn’t bring himself to turn the page. There was something so raw about the quote that made him stop and think. _’A fool thinks himself to be wise, but a wise man knows himself to be a fool’._ He read it to himself again. The blonde knew what it meant, but he was 95% sure, he had heard his teacher take about the quote apart in class one day, when he wasn’t paying that much attention.

_“There are many interpretations of this,” Mr Flick announced, resting on the front of his desk. Marco was too busy texting Mario to pay attention, and Flick was too busy pretending that Marco was listening to take his phone away. “Some say that it’s about how people believe themselves to be smart arses’, know it all’s, they know every little detail that the world has taught us over the billions of years that we’ve civilised this world; that these people refuse to listen, learn from, or take advice from anyone else, even if that person is smarter - which is usually the case.” Flick had the book resting against his chin, but Marco could see his upturned lips into a smile, as he chuckled to himself. “These people who believe they know it all; the Stephen Hawkins’, Albert Einstein’s, Leonardo Da Vinci’s, even the Thomas Muller’s.” He winked sharply the way of Thomas who just beamed, saluting and full of himself - no difference there then._

_“But do you want know what my interpretation is?” He inquired to the class, the silence being a platform for him to continue his…whatever it was,Marco wasn’t paying that much attention._

_Flick paused for a second. “It reminds me of a quote by Pharaoh Akhenaton “The wise man doubts often, and his views are changeable. The fool is constant in his opinions, and doubts nothing, because he knows everything, except his own ignorance.” I think that means, that having knowledge isn’t the difference between a wise man or a fool, but it’s the way we learn from our mistakes.” He paused. “A fool would never learn the true meaning of their mistakes, meaning that they would make mistake after mistake, after mistake, before they admit their defeat. Whereas a wise man, well, he would be the first to admit defeat, admit he’s a fool, and learn from their mistakes, better themselves, be cautious, think before they make a decision. A wiseman is one that admits defeat, whereas a fool is too stubborn and proud to admit they’ve lost, to lose their integrity. A wise man is a modest fool, and a fool is an arrogant wiseman.”_

_Marco snapped his head up as soon as Mr Flick had finished, something about that little speech had caught his eye_

_And yet, right to this day, I still can’t figure it out,_ he sighed to himself. Rubbing his hand over his forehead. Marco was sure there was some connective in Mr Flick’s words between himself and Mario, he was sure of it. He was also sure of the fact that he really shouldn’t be thinking about Mario right now. In all honesty, Mario was the last person he wanted to be thinking about, let alone comparing a fucking Shakespeare quote to.

But it was as though the young blonde was obsessed with the younger brunette.

Mario was, in fairness, a magnet. Once Marco was attached, he was unable to pull away, and right now, in times such as this when he really should be hating the boy, he couldn’t help but feel like he wanted to be closer to him.

_‘A wiseman is one that admits defeat, whereas a fool is too stubborn and proud to admit they’ve lost, to lose their integrity.’_  

That stuck out in Marco’s mind; he could easily see what it meant, yet, the real meaning still seemed blurred to him…

“Hey, Andre?” Marco called, looking up from his book. Andre did the same almost simultaneously as the former did, raising his eyebrows in question. “What do you think this quote means? ‘A wiseman is one that admits defeat, whereas a fool is too stubborn and proud to admit they’ve lost, to lose their integrity.’” He read the quotes out again, before placing the book page side down on his bed.

Andre shrugged at first, pulling himself out of the desk chair he had occupied in Marco’s bedroom, before walking over to jump onto the bed with the blonde. “Dunno. It could mean a number of things.”

Marco nodded, sighing inwardly. “What do you think it means?” He asked cautiously.

His fellow blonde turned to him and raised his eyebrow. “Well, I think it means, that some people realise and understand what they’ve done wrong and they accept it because they acknowledge their mistakes and learn from them. But then there’s other people that can’t accept that they’ve either done something wrong or whatever, and won’t listen to anyone, so they just keep making mistakes, too scared to lose their integrity, before they realise that they need admit defeat, which they do reluctantly.” Andre said fastly, before shrugging his shoulder and grabbing the remote control for the television. “But what do I know, I don’t even take English Literature.”

Marco stayed silent, nodding, and watching the television change channel a few times, before landing on some murder programme on the CI Channel. The blonde rolled his eyes at his friend, picking up his copy of Hamlet up again, attempting to read it. But the loudness of the TV was distracting him - not that he could concentrate anyway - which was playing some eerie sounding music, making Marco throwing down your book. “What is with you and murder programmes?”

Andre smirked, his arms crossed. “They’re fascinating, you get to see who are the real psycho’s out there.” He commented, not removing his eyes of the television screen. “Plus, you see how these psycho’s murder people.” The boy shrugged, nonchalantly.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if you could commit the perfect murder by now, with all the murder programmes you watch.” Marco added, laughing at his friend, who bounced his eyebrow in response.

After their little conversation, things seemed to fall into silence again, which either didn’t mind that much. Andre, not bothering with any homework he should be doing, carried on watching the crime programme, engrossed, with his eyes wide in intoxication. Marco, on the other hand, decided to give reading his book a go, try and distract his over worked brain, and give himself a rest. He flipped through a few pages, which held the intro to the play, until he landed on the start actual start of the play, and began to read skimmingly.

 

> _**SCENE I. Elsinore. A platform before the castle.** _
> 
> _**FRANCISCO at his post. Enter to him BERNARDO** _
> 
> **BERNARDO**
> 
> Who's there?
> 
> **FRANCISCO**
> 
> Nay, answer me: stand, and unfold yourself.
> 
> **BERNARDO**
> 
> Long live the king!
> 
> **FRANCISCO**
> 
> Bernardo?
> 
> **BERNARDO**
> 
> He.
> 
> **FRANCISCO**
> 
> You come most carefully upon your hour.
> 
> **BERNARDO**
> 
> 'Tis now struck twelve; get thee to bed, Francisco.
> 
> **FRANCISCO**
> 
> For this relief much thanks: 'tis bitter cold,
> 
> And I am sick at heart.
> 
> **BERNARDO**
> 
> Have you had quiet guard?
> 
> **FRANCISCO**
> 
> Not a mouse stirring.
> 
> **BERNARDO**
> 
> Well, good night.
> 
> If you do meet Horatio and Marcellus,
> 
> The rivals of my watch, bid them make haste. 

That was it, he had had enough.

Sure, it was only the first page, but...he couldn’t concentrate anymore, he was too distracted about a small, chubby cheeked brunette that was acting like one of the biggest pricks around, and now that was all he was thinking about. Marco had tried to kid himself out of thinking about it, yet, it was just as though the past was all he could think about. A past that included Mario.

That’s when, Mr Flick’s and Andre’s words popped back into his head and then he couldn’t help but compare them to himself and Mario, trying to work out who was who. Was he the fool; unable to admit defeat, unable to see how much of a mistake it was when he kissed Mario? Or was he the wise man, defeated and admitting that what he did, he did it because he liked Mario, and that he enjoyed every second of it. Was Mario the fool, for saying that he regretted kissing Mario, that he never meant to, it was a mistake, and all the other bullshit that came out of his delectable mouth. Was Mario’s integrity the only thing that was keeping him this way? From admitting the inevitable truth? That he liked Marco too? Well, that was what Marco thought, because no one kisses someone the way Mario kissed Marco that night, and regrets it, or even defends the fact he’s not “into boys”.

“Stop thinking about him Marco, you’ll only stress yourself out.” Out of nowhere, Andre’s voice burst through to Marco, making him drop his book in his to his lap, and sigh.

He immediately closed his eyes and shook his head, picking his book back up.

“I’m not Andre, I’m reading my book.” Marco answered, with a voice that was trying to be as truthful as he possibly could, without revealing the actual truth.

“Really?” Marco nodded his head, albeit a little timidly. “Funny, because you’ve been reading the same page for half an hour now.” The latter stared at his friend, cynically, with a raise of his eyebrow. Just to patronise Marco that much further.

Skeptically, Marco, with scattering eyes, glanced down at the book in his hand and sighed inwardly. _He was right, of course he was right…_  There, the blonde saw the same quotes that he had read before. Quotes he thought that he had read, what seemed seconds ago, but in fact was at least 10 minutes ago. Had he been caught up in his troublesome thoughts for that long? “I-I was just trying to make sense of what it says!” Marco protested, nostrils flaring.

Andre’s expression, which hadn’t changed in the slightest, was now bowing on the smaller boy, who grew timid by it. “Oh of course Marco.” He said sarcastically, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms. “Even I could make sense of what that says, and I’m fucking shit at the subject.”

“Oh shut up.” Marco mumbled, moving over on his bed so he was sat on the edge, before throwing his book to the bedside table.

“God you really need to lighten up mate.” He mumbled, laying his head back on the pillow and attempting to watch more of the murder programme.

However, quietness didn’t seem to be Andre’s best friend tonight when he heard Marco’s raised voice, bellow out seconds later. “Lighten up? Lighten up?! You want me to lighten up after the week from hell I’ve been having? Oh yeah, sorry, let me just find my fucking happiness and I’ll fucking do as you say. Piss off!”

Andre sat there, bemused to a point from Marco’s dramatic performances, but also taken back by the fury that his words elected. Okay, sure, maybe he shouldn’t of actually made the comment, knowing the mood his friend was already in, even if he was trying to play it down himself. But Andre just wanted his best friend to stop pining over the small brunette chipmunk and move on. He wasn’t good enough for him anyway, especially with the way he had treated him the way he had, with all those spiteful words.

Andre signed, face palming. “L-look, Marco, I didn’t-”

He wanted to apologise and explain, but Marco was already quick to jump the gun and started ranting again, fueled by emotions. “Of course you fucking never Andre, no one ever means to fucking hurt me, but here I am, hurt and confused!” He vented, flaring his nostrils. “What am I supposed to do? I feel like I’m stuck in limbo…” Marco’s voice now sounded almost defeated and he once again slumed his slim body against his bed frame, where he rested his head back against it. Tears rising. “I feel like the biggest fool around...believing that some little kid like Mario would actually be into me, actually know what he felt. But, after all, he’s a 15 year old boy, what the fuck would he know.” He sighed heavily, closing his eyes.

“He knew that kissing you back was right, just not want to think afterwards.” Andre, shrugged, rolling himself a cigarette. “Boys hormones at 15 are all over the place, we both know that, so their body might tell them one thing is right when you’re head says something different. And sometimes that voice in your head is the influence of your parents rules or views. At that age, you don’t really hold your own opinion’s, you take your father’s, mother’s, brother’s, or whatever.” With a casual tone to his voice, he struck his lighter with his thumb and ignited his cigarette. Quickly pulling it out his mouth to exhale the smoke.

Marco waved his hand about to rid of the smoke that stank light the worst thing he could ever imagine. _And yet I do it myself_ , he thought, before, laying his head down on his pillow. Marco liked the silence that came so quickly after Andre’s opinion, it allowed him to digest his friends words and think long and hard it all. he watched, his eyes becoming a little more sleepily, as Andre blow smoke after smoke from his mouth, in different shapes. Sometimes in the classical way, or in the ‘O’ shape that fascinated him, seeing that he was unable to do it.

He soon found himself, unknowingly, sobbing into his pillow and once he had released - unfortunately along with Andre, who commented on his actions, he just couldn’t bring himself to lie anymore. “Maybe he just did it out of sympathy - “oh poor little Marco, has a little crush on me and now i’ll go and tell the whole world” - or maybe it was to manipulate me, maybe he filmed it!”

Andre rolled his eyes, taking another draw. “Now you’re just being ridiculous.” He blew the smoke out, watching it whisper about in the dull air.

“What if I’m not Andre?” Marco sniffed.

“Well you are.” The latter answered abruptly. “If someone kissed me, sober, and said those things. Sure, I’d be pissed off, but I would’ve probably worked out the fact that maybe their parents don’t agree with such things like that.” He picked at his fingernails, having enough of the whining kid next to him. “And I’d probably talk to them about it, like <i/> adults <i/> would.” Andre finished, special emphasis on the whole sentence, as if he was trying to drill it into the blonde, who led, sobbing away.

Marco’s head popped up seconds later. “What do you mean?”

All andre could do was roll his eyes. “Nevermind.” _All my efforts are wasted with this guys sometimes._  But he didn’t stop there, he continued. “I mean..” He coughed slightly, his body jerking forwards as the smoke went down the wrong way. “Y’know, it may sound girly, but talking about situations like these, _with_  the other person, actually helps.” I _was honestly making it as plain as it can be right now._  “Even if they are being an asshole, and keep running away...there is ways and means about getting around something, and usually talking is the key. Before people start making bullshit up, to make them self feel better.” _Being blatantly obvious right here! There’s a big neon light above my head, saying free fucking help, Marco!_

Just then, as Andre was about to shout in his face for being an oblivious twat about it, Marco’s head shot up again and this time, he pulled himself into a seating position. his face resembled one of pure thought and Andre was sure he could hear the cogs in Marco’s brain functioning like some old, Victorian steam train. After minutes of deliberation, he finally spoke, his voice, questionable itself. “I think I need your help.”

_Oh fucking hallelujah!_ Andre smirked, flicking his cigarette in the bin.

\---

Benedikt sat, with his mass of books, spread out over the table in front of him, meticulously taking notes. He wasn’t taking any chances in psychology, not after failing. He wanted to pass his exams in May and the only way he could find himself doing that, was by prematurely studying for them.

That’s why he found himself in the library during his free hour, which his head of year passed off as a “study period”. Usually Benedikt would go to the mall a few blocks away from the school, get something to eat, but that was far from the case today. For one, it was bitterly freezing and pouring down with outside, and he wasn’t taking his chances in getting frostbite. Secondly, the mall was loud, and right now, Benni couldn’t do loud. Loudness was his enemy, that’s why he moved from the study room into the library, because in here, people were ordered to shut up, and that brought a great sense of relief to his system.

Silence was his best friend.

So, here he he sat, frantically writing out note after note of the new subject they had just learnt in class; the formation of romantic relationships. Which was actually more interesting than it sounded. _Especially through similar personality traits,_ he grinned to himself.

Benedikt loved the fact that people are most likely attracted to someone who has a similar personality to them; likes the same things, has the same opinions. That was something that Benni had always thought about, a loved the idea of finding someone who viewed life through the same pair of eyes that he did, not that he had found that person yet, but that was his dream anyway. Matter of factly, he hadn’t really found anyone like him around, ever. Which sometimes made him question if he was normal and was a nice, normal person, even with his natural annoyed, shouting nature...

Mats, meanwhile, was aimlessly walking around the hallways, whistling along to the song blasting in his headphones - which he really shouldn't have in, but, eh, what the fuck, he didn’t care that much.

He had just got back from the mall, where he had spent his morning, skipping first period English, he didn’t need that shit to know what Shakespeare said or did, or...whatever. So instead, he hit the slot machines in the amusements in there, and managed to score himself €200 on his second go. _What can I say, I’m a genius at those things._  He smirked, cockily. Mats then spent ten of it in Subway, getting the biggest meatball sub there was. Filled with chilli and cheese. Plus a large nachos, extra jalapeños and salsa, large coke and several cookies for lunch.

The rest, he wasn’t sure what he was planning to do with it, but he knew it would come in handy somewhere, so for now, it was just shoved in his wallet.

As he continued down the corridor, moving a few droplets from his wet hair from the pouring rain, Mats passed the library, which was always as silent as mouse. He took a quick glance inside, like he usually does, and expected to see it empty as he passed it. However, this time, it wasn’t, there was actually someone sat on one of the tables, working? He stopped just passed the windows of the door, his whistling becoming low and nonexistent. Mats turned just then, water droplets from his hair hitting the stained glass and pressed his face against it, squashing his nose. He didn’t know why he felt like he needed to do this, but he was sure that the person he saw sat there was that boy with attitude. _What was his name again? Oh yeah, Benni._  

Who was he kidding, of course he hadn’t forgotten his name, how could he? It was unique and he loved saying it - of course he hadn’t spent the other night repeating the boys name, now that would just be creepy. Mats smirked against the glass, before pulling his face away.

_Maybe I should go in?_

_But, why would I? I have no reason to._

_Yeah, I do...I need to do that paper on...something or other...and plus Benni’s in there…_

_Stop kidding yourself Mats, you don’t need to go in there, you want to go in there to see Benni. You’re an asshole, you know that?_

Mats rolled his eyes at himself. I  _can’t believe I’m arguing with myself. Why don’t I just go in there, and be myself…_

_That’s a bad idea, myself is a dickhead…_

There was a pause in his thought and he felt his hand reach out a grab the handle. _Oh fuck it._

He pulled the door open, with a loud squeak and stood there for a second, looking in the direction of the person sat the table. It was Benni.

Just seeing the tall blonde boy sat there brought a sly smile to Mats lips and a small swell in his heart, which he just passed off heart palpitation. Sweeping back his hair, to make some kind of effort, he did his top button up - formality - before confidently striding over. _Now what?_ He asked himself, perplexed at the fact that Benni hadn’t bothered lifting his head in his presence.

Benni had in fact felt that someone was stood there watching him, and he was so ready to lift his head to tell whoever it was to piss off - even in the case of a teacher - but, when he saw that distinctive leather jacket, he plain out decided to ignore the person, knowing exactly who it was.

Mats stood there for a second longer, his patience wearing thin, and loosely pulled out a chair, dumping himself in it. He prompted his legs up on the table and sighed heavily, loudly. Trying to seek the attention from the blonde, who continued to act as though he was the only one there. That made Mats smirk grow largely, and he lent forward, laying his head on his hand and strumming his fingers along the wooden table.

He watched as Benni gripped his pain harder, writing more furiously while he chewed his bottom lip, something that made Mat’s heart have another palpitation. Them lips looked soft and he was ruining them by biting them.

Mats strummed his fingers louder, humming longley.

“I know what you’re trying to do, and the simple fact is, I’m ignoring you.” Benni voiced when the noise started to drive himself insane to the point that he could feel himself getting a migraine.

Mats licked his lips, sitting back up properly and titled his head to the side. “I am doing nothing apart from sitting right here and enjoy the peace.” He shrugged, running his hand through his head slowly and watching a few droplets flick to the table. Now that gave him an idea. Thus, he leaned forward a little more, just so he was a few inches from the mass of books led out on the table, and shook his head. Watching the water flick everywhere; over the text books, table and even Benni. “Oh sorry about that.” Mats shrugged innocently.

Benni’s nostrils flared and he flinched when he felt the water hit him. His reaction? Throwing his pen down to the table like a spoilt little boy, but, and most surprisingly, he kept his cool, lifting his head up slowly. Well, he was in a library after and he couldn’t bare to disturb such piece. “Alright, you got my attention.” The blonde sighed, clasping his hands as he stared back at the smirking boy. “What do you want?”

Irritation was setting in fast with Benni and Mats saw the redness filling up his cheek as it did. Another heart palpitation. Mats shrugged. “I just wanted to come and sit here, enjoy the quietness, relax. Y’know.” He smirked, scratching his stubble.

Benni stared at him, with no expression etched on his face at all, letting Mats know that he wasn’t impressed with his ‘excuse’. “So flicking water all over someone who’s trying to work you think is relaxing?” The blonde raised his eyebrow as the brunette, smirked and shrugged in response. A smirk that drove Benni crazy, and in the wrong way he hated this guys, why was he sat here fucking annoying him? _Why the fuck is he here anyway? Why the fuck does it have to be me that he annoys?_   “I’m surprised you even knew this part of the building existed.”

The blonde, leant back in his chair, copying the smirk that Mats was producing. He didn’t know why he was doing this, or even talking to him, but he was and he just couldn’t stop himself. There was something satisfying about getting on this boy’s nerves that Benedikt enjoyed. It was satisfying standing up to a person like him, when most other people would shy away. But that was just the way he was; he won’t take any shit, no matter who you are.

“Hey, I’ve, I’ve been in here before…” Mats tried to defend himself, holding his hand up. Benni stayed silent and stared, a stare that actually was quite scary to Mats, and made him feel uncomfortable. “Alright, maybe I haven’t, but I do know where it is!”

Benni rolled his eyes and recaptured his pen that he had thrown minutes ago, and went back to what he did best; ignoring Mats. He didn’t want to speak with him anymore, he was stressed and was trying to make notes on something that was incredibly frustrating for him to learn. The last thing he needed was a wet, probably stoned Mats being the dickhead he is, and frustrating Benni any further than he already is. _And that was before his decided to show up._

A couple of minutes passed, the silence was enjoyable, for the time it lasted, but mats was really starting to feel awkward, he needed to say something otherwise he was going to explode. Explode why? Well, because of Benni of course; there he was, sat there, gnawing at his lips, those peppering of freckles dusting his cheeks lightly, those long eyelashes batting with every sentence he read, and Mats heart was pumping fast. He didn’t know why but right now he didn’t want to know. No way.

“What you studying?” He asked, patting down his drying hair.

Benni, annoyed, looked up again from his work for a second, his tongue in the side of his mouth. “Psychology.” He said shortly, not wanting to expand on it and not wanting to talk to the dickhead anymore, before bowing his head and writing more vigorously.

“Well, what about psychology?” Mas inquired further and Benedikt sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, hoping it would help relieve the stress.

He again looked up and stopped. “The formation of relationships.” Benedikt started writing again, hoping it would be the last time he was interrupted, but just the presence of the boy was starting to irritate him, he could feel him sat there, watching him, frustrating him, and knowing that he was doing purposely doing it. Thus, he dropped his pen again, and stared back at the brunette boy with wet hair stuck to his forehead. “W-why are you sat here anywhere? Why are you here, annoying me? Don’t you have some teachers to insult or smoke some weed? Y’know, things a asshole like you would do.”

Mats whistled, shaking his head. “That was low man, low.”

Benni instantly felt guilty for his words, he didn’t mean them to come out so harshly and that way at all, but they did and there was nothing he could do about them right now. They were out there, and he couldn’t take it bad, and he also couldn’t apologise for them. Benedikt wasn’t the apologising type. “Well, sometimes the truth hurts.” Instead he said, shrugging sarcastically before sorting through his books to find the right part.

Benedikt only took the slightly glance up, but he saw the brunette, curly looks stuck against his forehead, which was as red as a plum, his jaw was clench shut and fists in the same position. Mats couldn’t believe the blonde in front of him could go as low at that, and it really pissed him off; now he was having a hard time keeping his cool. He saw the small smirk on Benedikt’s lips, and he knew the boy was testing his temper. _Oh, two can play at that game, you little shit._

So, Mats soon replaced his clenched jaw with a witty smirk of deception. Pulling himself up in his chair and clasping his hands, imitating the blonde boy. “Well, if we’re talking about truths, I’d just like to say that you’re a narcissistic, freckle faced prick that has no respect, is patronising, a bully and one the biggest nerds that I’ve ever met!”

Mats smirked, happily, slyly but most of all proud of his little come back.

But Benedikt on the other hand, was furious that someone could subjugate him to such abuse of words. His blood was boiling now, and now, right now in these moments, there was no stopping him from what he wanted to do.

He found himself jumping to his feet, his pen flying god knows where, while his fists slam against the table. Mats maintained the cockiness he was so good at and sat casually watching the boys reaction. Nostrils flaring, eyes burning, and a head ready to explode. “Fucking say that again!” He bellowed, anger rising. Mats smirked, standing up as well and copying the stance of his fellow pupil.

“I said you’re a narcissistic, freckle faced prick that has no respect, is patronising, a bully and one the biggest nerds that I’ve ever met!” He said, this time with a patronising tone, just to tick the blonde off that much more.

The rage was taking over now, and Benedikt saw red, he was ready to rip the smirk off the brunette’s face and then repeatedly stab him.

“I WILL HAVE NONE OF THAT IN MY LIBRARY!”

The bellowing voice from the small blonde librarian rung out around the area of the library, making several people jump, including Benedikt and Mats, who was startled by the presence, mainly because they were too caught up with irritating each other to the point of fighting. The pair both glanced down at the small librarian, of whom they didn’t know the name of, and watched her little anger fit.

“I will not tolerate such behaviour like that in _my_ library, this is a place to be quiet and study, not have petty little fights, you can do that outside those doors!” Benedikt and Mats glanced at each other sharply. “So, I suggest you pack your things up and find somewhere else to argue because I am not standing for it in here! Go on, get out right now!”

Benedikt sighed, taking a step forward. “Miss please, I’m sorry, I was trying to study when this prick-”

“Hey I’m not a prick, you’re the prick!” Mats interrupted, folding his arms.

Benedikt pause, biting the inside of his lip. “Rich coming from someone who probably doesn’t even know what the word means.” He raised his eyebrow, challenging.

“Yeah I fucking do!” Mats defended himself. _Yeah, actually, I have no clue what it means, but this asshole isn’t patronising me._

Benni’s eyebrow was now raised further, somehow. “Go on, what does it mean then huh? If you’re so smart!”

“BOTH OF YOU STOP IT NOW!” Benedikt was still so surprised how a voice like that could come from such a small person, but saying that, his mother was the same, so he shouldn’t be that surprised.

“Dickhead.” Mats murmured, low, but loud enough for both Benedikt and the librarian to hear.

“Prick.” Benedikt muttered back a few seconds later.

“ENOUGH.” The librarian took control again, standing as tall as she possibly could, which Mats found hilarious. “Collect your things and leave, or I’ll be calling in the head to deal with the pair of you.”

Reluctantly, Benni listened to the librarian and did as she said. Snapping his books closed and shoved them carelessly into his bag. _Great fucking study period this turned out to be._ Mats lazily picked up his backpack and swung it over his shoulder, watching the angry little blonde act like a spoilt brat and he couldn’t help but be amused. He couldn’t believe he created all that, well actually he could not that he thinks about it, he had always fancied himself a trouble maker.

As both boys made their way to the door at the same time, this caused another little scrap between them to occur - which is hardly surprising. They both tried to fit through the door at the same time, but because they’re similar sizes, it didn’t quite go to plan and they ended up yanking each other through, snarling. Benedikt straightened himself and his tie out and stood, fuming, biting his lower lip. “Ugh, fucking hell.” He growled to himself, running an angry hand through his hair.

They both stood there in silence.

That was until Mats decided to spoil it yet again. “So...where we gonna go now?”

Benedikt scoffed at his question, shaking his head. “Well, I know where I’m going and it’s far from you. I don’t want you anywhere near me. You’re a vile creature.” His nostrils, and Mats watched amused as Benni turned on his heels and headed down the hall, which got him a perfect view of that ass in those tight fitting school trousers. Mats found himself biting back a smirk as he watched the freckled blonde storm off in a temper, and again, he felt a heart palpitation occur. There’s was two striking things that Mats learnt right then.

1: He was really starting to warm to this boy Benni (yes, even with the insults)

2: He found the blonde’s attitude towards him incredibly sexy, yet he wasn’t quite sure why.

\---

Later that night, while Mats was lounging around in his bedroom, a book in one hand and a spliff in the other, his mind kept flashing back to when he saw the angriness on Benni’s face, saw the red rising, slowly, up his cheeks and to the tips of his ears. not only that, btu those freckles, they might not stand out like other peoples, but the light scattering across his cheeks and nose complimented his anger perfectly. It showed that no matter how annoying, angry, or big headed the blonde could be, the freckles always made him seem like a kid.

That made Mats chuckle.

But there was no denying that this guy had balls, and big ones at that. Mats had never met anyone in his life that would stand up to anyone the way he did, not even his own brother, Jonas, or father for that fact. Usually, people let Mats do what Mats wanted to do and didn’t challenge him on it, they knew better not to. But Benni, well that guy could insult Mats all day long, but it wouldn’t bother him. Though, in ways the blonde was irritating at the same time. Every little thing Mats did or said, had a snide remark attached to it from in, and that made him annoyed. he wasn’t used to it.

_So, should I start getting used to it?_ He thought intently, while taking a quick draw from the spliff, before putting it down on the side.

_I mean, if I keep annoying him, then I should expect it, then yes._

_But he might ask me to leave him alone...which, in that case, I’ll annoy him even more...which would mean that I would have to get used to his snide insults._ He shrugged to himself. _I could live with that._

After staring off into the darkness of his room for however long, Mats soon returned to reading the book. Well, scanning the page really, his concentration wasn’t the best right now.

 

> **POLONIUS**
> 
> Though this be madness, yet there is method in’t

He read the particular quotes and screwed his face as he thought. He was trying to work out what it meant at first, but then it struck him; there is a method to madness, to being crazy, though at the same time it could be a front, a disguise, to fool everybody and commit dirty deeds.

As Mats read and analysed the quote, Mats immediately started thinking of someone mad he knew; the famous Benni. Now don’t ask him why he made the connection because he wasn’t sure himself, but he made it and now he sat here thinking if there was some link between the meaning of the quote with the character of Benni. Madness seemed to be Benni’s middle name, but maybe things went deeper than that. Maybe Benni was like the mad Hamlet, a person with a disguise, and underneath the anger, there was a person that was scared and shy, nervous. And the only way they knew how to cope was to shout at everyone, boss them about, act as if they’re superior. After all, everyone has different strategies for coping with life. Maybe that was Benni’s?

Mats groaned, dropping the book on to of his face. Shakespeare really wasn’t helping.

\---

The refreshing sound of a can opening was enough to bring a sigh of happiness from Lukas, who was sprawled out on Bastian’s bed like a starfish. “I love your bed.” Bastian, rolled his eyes, slurping his Pepsi. _Here we go again._  “I wish I could have your bed, it’s so much softer than mine, so much bigger! So much space to lay on! I mean, what side do you pick to sleep on? Because I couldn’t.” Bastian went over and turned the speakers up higher. Lukas raised his head slightly, awkwardly from his position. “Hey, don’t be rude, I’m speaking.”

Bastian shook his head. “Stop talking bullshit, then maybe I won’t have to do it.”

Lukas threw him a look of disgust before laying back down and closing his eyes, yawning. did He mentioned how much he loved Bastian’s bed? Well, Lukas does, so much. “It feels like I’m getting a big, soft hug!” He shouted, just so Bastian could here him.

The latter however, was too distracted by something else to take that much notice, and no it wasn’t homework or his laptop. It was in fact his best friend, led across his bed, talking bullshit. He didn’t know what brought such attention towards his fellow blonde, maybe it was the way he was spread across the bed, acting if it was his own, maybe it was the way he had his eyes closed and a smile on his face as if he was sleeping, or maybe it was the fact that his top had rode up, revealing the little line of hair from his belly button and underneath the band of his boxers that was so inviting, so alluring. It was sending Bastian into a trance, and all he could think that he wanted to do was go over there, and delicately let his fingers trace that line of hair, even further than it appeared.

Bastian quickly shook his head at his thoughts. _I shouldn’t be thinking of my best friend in that way._  

Lukas’ head shot up then, his eyes wide, almost scared like and Bastians heart pounded, with the worst thought. But this is Lukas, and Lukas notices hardly anything, he’s too caught up in his own little world half of the time, which applied to now. “Y’know, what, I’m going to buy this bed off you.”

The statement made Bastian frown. “You’re an idiot.” He shook his head, watching the boy pout and took a sip of his Pepsi again. As he was doing so, Lukas stretched out, and allowed Bastian to see more what was on offer from Lukas’ torso and all he could think was _it’s...he’s beautiful…_ But again his thoughts were pulled away from that when a cold liquid splashed over his chest, shocking him and making him stand out. “Oh fuck, it’s cold, it’s cold!” He squealed like a little girl, flapping his hands in the air.

Lukas laughed heartedly, as the older one did that, and watched as he pulled his shirt off, that there was a big brown stain in the middle of his top. “It looks like a giant shit stain!” He laughed more, nearly falling over the bed.

Bastian stared at his friend, rubbing the shirt across his chest to get rid of the wetness with a pout on his lip. “Shut up, it’s your fault anyway.” He sullenly moans, heading over to his wardrobe to find a new shirt.

“How’s it my fault? You’re the one that split it down yourself!” Lukas tutted, resting his head on his hands, and intently watched his friend picking out a new top for himself.

Bastian didn’t answer, because the truth was one that he was not willing to reveal, so instead he shrugged, before the pair fell silent. The latter was unaware that behind him, Lukas was staring at him, unable to tear his eyes away from that muscular back. Lukas’ eyes wander from the dip at the bottom of his back, upwards, watching the muscles move as Bastian did, he watched the way they shaped his back, that almost V shape from his shoulders, downwards. Lukas’ eyes soon came to rest on Bastians right shoulder blade, which was covered by a detailed tattoo of a dragon. The dragon was done on such a way that it looked as though the dragon was clinging to Bastians back, like his protector, watching people from behind to make sure that they never hurt him. The head was placed just over on his shoulder blade, while the body went down his back and tail stop just shy of halfway down his back. It was quite the tattoo, but it suited Bastian, it was beautiful on him.

The boy turned around in the silence and saw his friend’s eyes on him. He smiled shortly before pulling on a fresh top.

Lukas gulped. _What am I doing?_ He breathed out, and returned the smile to his friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm soooooooooo soooooooooo sorry that it took soo long doing this but I had a few exams to do over the last two weeks so I was focusing my attention on that!  
> So to make up for it, here's a longer than usual chapter to spice things up ;)  
> Hope you enjoyed it! Next chapter soon!


	10. Bewilderment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> he pupils of München Comprehensive are deep into the everlasting winter term, boredom set in a long time ago, and now school seems to be the most hated place on the planet. But this doesn't strictly mean that nothing eventful ever happens...
> 
> Welcome to München Comprehensive, would you like a piece of rope to go with that chair?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tension at both tables, but can anyone work out why?

_Lunchtime_

A period set aside for eating lunch or the period of an hour or so, beginning roughly at noon, during which lunch is commonly eaten.

_Lunchtime._

That one time during the school day, where you’re allowed to be loud and careless. Allowed to speak with your mates without getting told off. Allowed to eat whatever the hell you want to.

Be loud. Be rowdy. Be physical. Be yourself.

That one place where you feel comfortable and not under pressure. Where learning gets thrown out of the window and the most important things are food, relationships and sports.

A time where you just let go of all responsibility, and one of the only places in life where it applies.

However, it seemed that today, all the normal lunchtime happenings had vanished completely, and all that was left was a bunch of awkward teenagers sitting silently together. All but two tables somehow understood what was happening, somehow. There was an awkward, unidentified murmuring silence drifting throughout each table, and most people sat there wondering what the hell was going on. But they soon learned; if the seniors were silent, then something was seriously up.

Because when were they ever quiet?

To others sat around, it felt like they were all enduring one of Mr Guardiola's lectures again, that was how quiet it was. The only difference being, no one was asleep and mostly everyone was eating.

Especially Thomas.

However, over at the senior table, eating wasn’t exactly the first thing on people's mind, no matter how much they loved it themselves. Manuel, the man who loved his sandwiches, baguettes, wraps, basically anything that had was bread based, stared plainly at the spicy vegetable wrap that was placed in front of him.

This wasn’t him, staring at the food, not even feeling hungry. But lately he hadn’t been himself, not since...yeah...to even say it, brought a pang of guilt through his body. It was his fault that him and Philipp got caught the way they did. Well, in a way, how was he supposed to know that Philipps art teacher was going to walk in when she did? But on the other hand, it was a school, it was her classroom, and in reality, they shouldn’t have been making out on the table the way they did. _Her face was priceless though,_ Manu nodded to himself. Okay, maybe that was the only funny aspect that he could take out of it. That and the fact Philipp’s ass was covered in red paint because of Manu’s actions. Although now, when Manuel thought back to the red paint incident, he was guilty there as well, because if he told him about it, it wouldn’t have caused Philipp so much hassle when they were out. And by hassle, Manuel means, the mocking he got for it. In all honesty, the paint splodge had gotten bigger somehow, while they were walking to the restaurant they were heading to to have lunch, and Manuel hadn’t noticed it, because if he had, he would of told him, probably. And the gang shouting abuse to them wasn’t far from the usual, especially in the neighbourhood they were in. They didn’t really get why a man would be with another man, but that's their problem. What was Manuels problem was the fact that they started to make comments on the red paint, saying things like; ‘You must be very sore from your boyfriends dick to have a stain that big!’ or ‘Things get kinky in the bedroom last night lads!’ or ‘God, he must had ripped your asshole to pieces mate!’ None of them were that funny, just offensive, but when Fips realised that there was paint covering his ass, he didn’t react well, at all, and proceeded to shout in Manuel’s face, embarrassed. It wasn’t until they went home and changed his pants, did Philipp forgive him, in his own little way.

Though, those incidents were something that made Manuel very cautious about his actions indeed. The guilt was killing him still from that, and seeing Philipp crying the way he did, that broke his heart even more. Because he knew that what had happened had big consequences. He knew that Philipp was scared, because he was scared too. Scared that if they weren’t careful enough, their parents would find out that their sons were in a relationship with another man. And Manuel personally knew that his mother, however open she was, would not tolerate such things as that underneath her roof. So, he could only imagine how much worse it would be for Philipp. But do you know what scared Manuel the most? And it was a regular thought that crossed his mind; he feared that if their parents did find out, then they would be separated, not allowed to see one another. Manuel’s biggest fear wasn’t his teacher finding out, nor his mother, it was losing Philipp that scared him to death, because, if he did ever lose him, Manuel knew that he would be hopeless in the world. Philipp was everything to him, everything and more. and to lose him, would be like losing a big chunk of himself, which he just could not survive.

Instinctively, Manu’s hand came to lock with Philipp’s underneath the table, gently. All those horrible thoughts making the senior feel uneasy and sick to the stomach.  

Philipp wasn’t sure why Manuel had grabbed his hand, but he didn’t mind, he loved holding his hand, and as always, he gave it a little squeeze as he glanced down at their interlocked fingers.

Manuel breathed out, Philipp not knowing just how much a squeeze of a hand can be reassuring for the tall blonde. In ways, it sort of eased the pain for him, the guilt, because it let Manuel know that Philipp was not only still there, but still loved him, and that’s all he ever asked for from him.

Philipp on the other hand, sat there as silent as a mouse, stroking his thumb over the back of Manuel’s hand, trying to calm himself down. He leant slightly into the side of the taller boy, but not too much so that it became obvious - not that it would make a difference to the people around the table who already knew they were together. Philipp could sense the tension filled atmosphere that had hit the group today, and it only made things worse for his own mood. He glanced around the large table, seeing how everyone was aimlessly quite or deep in thought, and it only made himself feel as though he was in the same boat.

_That’s because I am_

He sighed to himself, closing his eyes for the slightest of seconds as he composed himself.

The small blonde senior didn’t want to admit it to himself, but he knew that he was terrified and that at some point in the future, things were going to get rough. Rough enough to affect his relationship with Manuel, and that was the last thing on earth that he ever wanted to happen, especially to who he viewed as the love of his life.

He was terrified that his parents were going to find out about the pair, and bring shame on his family. Philipp couldn’t help his sexuality; he was gay and he was proud to be. However, there was mainly one issue that made him hide his true self from his parents; his father. His father was a very successful lawyer, one with high morals and high expectations, and if he knew that his only son was gay, well Philipp knew that would not only break his heart, but he would be ashamed. What father ever wants a gay son? Having the burden of not having grandchildren, having to say to others that he was into men, not women, but most importantly, knowing that his father would act as if everything was fine, that he was happy that his son was being who he wanted to be, when he knew that his father wasn’t happy, seeing the glint of disappointment in his eyes.

That scared Philipp  half to death just thinking about it, and it was something that he never, ever wanted to live through. But he knew that things couldn’t stay the same forever, one day or another his parents were going to find out he was gay, and they were going to have to deal with it. Though Philipp was scared it would be in the wrong way.

Meanwhile, across from the table, Miro was battling his own crisis, and his name; Thomas.

Yes, Thomas, he was still causing Miroslav problems.

Far more problems than the senior wished for.

But that was the problem with the boy, he was causing Miro problems, without even knowing it.

There he sat, on the table across from Miroslav, mindlessly crunching away at a packet of crisps, without a care in the world. And that alone, annoyed Miroslav. _How is he so clueless?_  He asked himself, trying to understand the mentality Thomas had, racking his brains, yet coming out with no result.

Miroslav was frowning without realising it, and also constantly glancing the way of the younger brunette, watching his movements, which were far and few between. His movements usually included him getting more food from his bag, noisily opening the packet before carelessly shoving pieces of the food in his mouth, time after time again. He sure loved his food.

Though, as Miroslav took small little glances towards the boy on the opposite table, he noticed something else about Thomas, apart from the fact that he loved eating. It was Thomas himself, his personality, he means.

A personality of which, he had never seen.

A personality full of vibrancy, laughs, easy going sense, bravery, friendliness, honesty, the list could go on, but there was one important aspect that Miroslav noticed, the most important of all; confidence. Confidence at a level that Miroslav had never witnessed in a person. Sure, Miroslav was confident himself, yet when it came to Thomas, well may as well be the king of it, he over shone everyone with his willingness to be outgoing.

And that surprised Miroslav more than anything.

Thomas’ confidence was bursting through the seems as Miroslav was looking over, seeing the kid joking someone sat on another, as his friends sat there unmoved, and unimpressed.

_But how can they be unimpressed with a friend like that?_

Miroslav was surprised, how could they, because as he surveyed the faces that sat around Thomas, he noticed that most of them were unimpressed with the boys wit and confidence, which were great aspects of a vibrant personality. He saw how, one of the boys, whose name he believed to be ‘Benni’ slumped his head against his hand, sighing and shaking his head as he listened to whatever Thomas had to say. Now, he didn’t doubt that maybe Thomas could be a tad annoying, from what he had heard from some people, but, the fact that he got ignored, was surprising.

This new found confidence that the young brunette had, was something Miro hadn’t experienced himself, because, every time he ever spoke to thomas, he became a silent, fumbling mess. which made the senior very confused indeed. Every time he tried to talk to Thomas, he would blush, stumble over his words, and probably end up hurting himself in someway. _Well, he did knock himself out with the school door…_

Anyhow, from that thought, Miroslav couldn’t help but think about the other run in’s he had had with Thomas, where he acted like a complete idiot, for the nicest of terms. First, there was when he went to pass the football back and managed to slip on his ass, and get covered in mud, then it was jamming his hand in his own locker and whacking his head against it, then it was the door incident, and then the piano lesson, well not incident as such, but it was a time that showed another side of Thomas.

Sure, Thomas was still fumbling over his words, but when he started to play the piano, there was a different side that Miroslav had never seen. a passionate side of him, a confident one with the piano keys underneath his fingers, which not only surprised Miroslav, but captivated him. Though, that didn’t seem to make a difference to Thomas, because he was still so quiet with the senior, and Miro was still having a really hard time trying to figure out why.

Was he intimidating to him? Because if he was, he didn’t mean to be, and never wanted to be either. Did he not like him? Well, each to their own in that sense, he thought. Or was is something more than those? Something Miro couldn’t quite put his finger on.

There was still one question Miro kept asking himself though; _What’s up with this kid?_

Mats, however, took a different, less concealed and more evident approach to his ‘complications’, concerning a certain blonde German, who he always seemed to piss off, without really doing anything at all. Okay, maybe he couldn't claim he did ‘nothing’ because he does have a tendency to piss people off. But anyway, you get his point.

Benni didn’t like Mats one bit.

And for some reason, that really annoyed Mats.

Not only did it annoy him though, it made him want to test Benni, in a way.

See how far the young blonde could go before snapping.

And he had already found out that, in the library. To Mats, it was pure banter, he was testing him and prodding at him, like a little kid, wanting to see how far he could go. Yet, it seemed that he snapped more quickly than Mats thought, and that, that surprised the brunette. Though, to be honest to himself, the motorbike incident should have told him that, because then Benni blew up about how he nearly ran him over, etc, etc, etc…

_I was way, way off from running him over, the exaggerating asshole._

Mats knew, that as much as he should stop teasing and testing Benni, he couldn’t. He couldn’t stop himself because there was something about the boy that was so inviting. Benni reminded him of his younger brother, Jonas, in ways. Because, in similar circumstances, he couldn’t stop teasing him, because he knew he could get a rise out of him. However, there was more than just the teasing him, getting a rise out of him, there was more to Benni than meets the eye.

To Mats, Benni had this aura about him, like this anger was just a layer, underneath that, there was something that he was hiding from him, from the world, and mats being Mats, he wanted to know.

_He was an onion._

Alright, he knows how stupid that sounds, but it was true. Benni was like an onion, he had layers, and every time you took one layer away, there was another waiting to be peeled. Mats wasn’t sure what layer he was with Benni, but he was sure it was only the tip of the iceberg with him. Mats also loved his attitude, especially the way he treated Mats; in a sarcastic and angry manner, and that, for Mats, was special. It not only made Mats had respect from the blonde, but more. He found his attitude incredibly sexy in so many way. That attitude of Benni’s was red hot, smoking, and so delicious to witness, even against him.

But, as Mats stared at the young blonde across the room, with not a care in the world if he made it as obvious as hell, there was something niggling the back of his mind, that had been since he first had a run in with the blonde. He knew the boy from something, at some time and in some place, but where and when? That was the question on his lips. Where did he know this mysterious blonde from and why was he causing Mats so much trouble?

There came a small bang from one end of the table, and every silent figure sat around it looked across, where Bastian and Lukas sat playing ‘slapsies’. With a mouth full of chips in his mouth, Bastian smiled cheerily and watched as all four others sighed and shook there head. “Aws come on guys, lighten up! It’s like some has died!”

“It’ll be you dead in a minute Schweinsteiger.” Manuel gritted, still with Philipp cuddled in his side comfortably.

“Guys, why start an argument of quietness?” Miroslav intervened, running his fingers over his forehead, massaging it slightly from the headache he was getting. “Just chill out, and let us talk about something...I don’t know...uplifting.” He shrugged, slapping Mats’ arm to get his attention back to the group. Which worked for a split second and a dirty look.

The table was silent for a second, before Lukas slammed his hands on the table, standing up and announcing. “The skiing trip! Is everyone sorted for the skiing trip?”

He was trying his best to lighten the mood, yet, he knew, just as much as anyone, something was up, and something was changing.

\---

“Is 149 calories, a lot?” Thomas question while he chewed and crunched the crispy sweet potato snacks he had picked up. “It seems quite a lot…”

Benedikt looked up from his text book, which he wasn’t even reading - mainly because he couldn’t concentrate - and turned his head towards Thomas. “Yes...but don’t worry, you can eat anything and not put any weight on.” Benedikt said in a girl, sarcastic tone before rolling his eyes.

Thomas crunched another chip and pouted his lips. “You’re mean.” He huffed towards his blonde friend, who in return, just stared back at him, with a dull expression on his face. “What? I only asked a question mr grumpy twat.” Thomas commented, lightening his tone and raising his eyebrows, smirking.

“Well, at least I’m not an annoyance like you.” Benni shot back cheesily. “Right Mario?”

“Uh?” Mario sounded, surprised, and brought out of his dull trance, to realise that Benedikt was involving him within the conversation. “Uh, um, er yeah sure.” He shrugged, running a stressed hand through his hair, where it had fallen forward from being swept back, and gave a small smile to the two arguing boys.

Benedikt frowned towards the younger brunette, who seemed to be nowhere with anyone in the group at this moment. “You alright Mario?”

Mario nodded. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be.” He chuckled.

“Because you’ve got a face like a smacked ass.”

The table fell silent after Benedikt small comment, though meant to be funny, it didn’t really catch on, and now Marco, Andre, Mario and even Thomas were staring at the blonde with a face that said ‘why do you have to be such a prick?’. Though Benedikt pushed that aside.

“Well, why the long face?” He continued to dig at the younger member of their group, trying to figure out why Mario was acting the way he was. And, to be fair, why most of the table - apart from him and Thomas, were acting silently, like there was something major wrong.

Mario glanced the way of where Marco was sat, his eyes full of guilt before he turned and bowed his head and shook it. “Nothing man, I’m just in a bad mood, that’s all...”

“It seems like we all are.” Benedikt chuckled before shutting his mouth. “You boring sods, god.” He thought that it would be best to reading his text book, but he knew that there was something up with the three of them sat from him. They were quiet, too quiet. They were never this quiet, they were always making noise somehow, yet here they sat, dead silent. Which was really annoying.

Guilt was tearing Mario apart, and when Benni picked up on his quietness, he couldn’t help but glance over at Marco, see if he could sense anything in the blonde, see if he could reason. But who was he kidding? How would a look change everything he had done? How much of an asshole he had been, not only towards Marco, but himself. Mario knew that he was a coward, and a big one. He knew that he needed to sort things out, speak to Marco, clear things up and actually reveal the truth why he did what he did and how he felt. Because what he told Marco, was far from the truth. Yet, every time he went to, he didn’t, he froze, and he told himself that Marco didn’t want to hear any excuses, Marco didn’t want to be hurt anymore. Hurt by him.

So, Mario thought it was best if he stayed out of the way of everyone. Sure, he’d still hang around with Benni and Thomas, Erik also, because he got on with them. Though, he choose to stay clear of Marco and Andre, knowing the other blonde would pick his best friend's side over him. He didn’t want to cause anymore trouble, and he certainly didn’t want to see seem like the bad guy, though he knew he already was. Mario was tormented night after night since what had happened, with the running thought through his head, questioning his own actions. He regretted all of what happened, the day after, but the night before; he couldn’t regret anything that happened, because it was perfect.

If there was who was suffering in the world right now, it was Mario.

Marco on the other hand, was sat away from the smaller brunette, on the other side of Andre to be specific. Yet, his mind wasn’t entirely thinking of what happened, but what was to happen. _That is if Andre decides to fucking talk to Mario that is._ Andre had yet to ask Mario out for ‘ice cream’ so that he could talk to Marco - however the last part Mario would be unaware of because they both knew, if Mario did not that, he would never agree - and it was really starting to piss Marco off. He wanted to hit Andre for it, he just wanted it over and done with, not to worry about it any longer, and worry about what he was supposed to say to Mario in the mean time.

But, no, Andre being Andre hadn’t done it.

And when Marco caught up with him, while he was having a cigarette, he said that it would all be done in due course.

That was at break time, now it was lunch time.

Had he done it?

Of course he hadn’t.

He was so unreliable it was unbelievable, and if it wasn’t for happened, Marco would do it himself. However, he didn’t want to really talk to Mario at this moment in time, and Mario didn’t look like he wanted to be disturbed anyway.

So it had now come to this, Marco sat next to Andre and poking his side, trying to get his attention. Though the more he poked, the more Andre ignored Marco’s attempts to gain his attention, because as he said; he’ll do it in his own time. Andre had lessons as well, and he didn’t understand why Marco wanted him to do it so quickly, there was still half a day left, plus afterwards to ask Mario, and he would do it, because he was the one that came up with the plan in the first place.

Though Marco, still agitated, shuffled in his seat, sighing and poking Andre’s side more. and when Andre finally turned slightly towards the blonde boy, his eyes scream in question ‘when are you going to ask him?!’ Actually his whole face screamed it and he wasn’t doing a good job at concealing it either, then slapping his arm didn’t help. Which made Andre widen his eyes and snarl silently at Marco in return.

_God, how impatient is that boy going to get!_

But the persisting Marco never stopped after Andre’s threatening stare, it made him carry on more, throwing him looks, nudging him slightly, poking his side, tapping his fingers on the table. anything and everything to get his attention and put his point across.

_Okay, I get it!_ Andre growled in his head, biting his tongue, and instead, opting to pick up his phone, and texted the boy next to him.

> _Andre B): Will you SHUT THE FUCK UP :D_

Marco felt his phone vibrate in his pocket it and pulled it out with a frown. Who could be texting him right now? Unless...he read it and rolled his eyes, his face clearly not impressed with his friends text, as he angrily typed his own.

> _Marco :P: JUST FUCKING DO IT THEN MAN!!!_

Marco put his phone back into his pocket and pouted his lips, crossing his arms. Andre rolled his eyes. _Drama queen._

The constant crunching of crisps next to him was starting to drive Benedikt insane, he had read the same sentence over three times now and as much as he tried to concentrate, he couldn’t. Sighing and rubbing his forehead, he stopped and glanced up. “How many packet of crisps do you have?” However, he received no answer from the brunette, who had now stop crunching all together and had eyes wide, as if they were about to pop out. “Man…” Benedikt poked his cheek and Thomas jumped.

Turning towards his blonde friend, he uttered. “He caught me looking.”

“Who?” Benedikt frowned.

“Miro.” Everyone, including Erik, who had just returned from the canteen, sighed.

“Is he still on this whole ‘Miro crush’ thing?” Erik shook his head and took a seat next to Mario, patting his shoulder as he sat. “How many months it been now? 5-6? And what have you done in all that time? Nothing.”

Thomas frown, pouting again. “Oh shut up...he just caught me staring at him, and you’re having a go at me for it.” He blushed.

“Well don’t stare and you won’t get caught.” Benedikt shrugged and the rest agreed, making Thomas get worked up.

He blushed an even darker red, and put down his crisps, slightly losing his appetite. “B-but...he keeps trying to get me to talk to him, and I just don’t know what to do, it’s like I freeze, and stutter and just end up doing stupid things.”

“Like what?” Andre intervened, nicking a chip for Erik’s plate. “Well, we all know you do stupid things anyway, but with a crush, I can imagine it’s ten times worse.”

Thomas bowed his head, fiddling with his fingers along the table, as he tried not to sound too stupid while explaining his incidents with Miroslav. “W-welll, I mean, they're not, khm, that stupid.” He chuckled. “I mean, I knocked myself out with the school door trying to run away from him while he was trying to give my music sheets back that I dropped…”

The whole table burst out laughing, even the silent Mario cracked a smile and maybe even a little laugh at his friend, for his stupidness. “H-how can you do that?” Benedikt laughed harder, holding his stomach. “I mean...oh you are stupid Tom.”

“Shut up guys, it’s not funny, it really hurt.” He moaned. “And then, during one of piano lessons, he came to talk to me, and asked me to play my favourite song, so I did...and when he left...his mum caught me staring at his ass.” Another wave of laughters came, making Thomas blush more and more, sinking into his seat. He felt like a fool, maybe he should of kept these happenings to himself for this exact reason; he knew his friends would act this way, bunch of bastards. As they kept laughing, he took a glance towards the table of seniors, and caught Miroslav looking his way, straight at him again, and Thomas quickly looked down. “Oh guys, great, he’s looking over again, shut up.”

Benedikt rolled his eyes. “Stop being a big baby Thomas, it’s you’re on fault.” The blonde took a glance over himself to see if Thomas was just imagining things, but as he did, he noticed a pair of eyes, directly on himself.

A pair of brown eyes latched onto his own, a pair he recognised as Mats Hummels’, and the first initial thought Benedikt had was; _is that really who I think it is?_ But when he knew who it was, he couldn’t helping thinking; _Why is he staring at me?_ Among some of the minor questions. As Benedikt kept looking, so did Mats, there seemed to be no let up in the pair of them, they matched each other, they weren’t given up that easily. They stared for what seemed forever, before smirking and looking away. Smirks with something different about them, something more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heey guys, I tried to get this up for Wednesday but it didn't work out because of revision, blah. So, instead, I'm posting it on a very special day; Marco's 26th Birthday! I'm so gutted that BVB lost the DFB Pokal final, so I'm a sad, but I wanted to get this up in celebration for Marco's birthday. Happy birthday gorgeous!
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy it!


	11. Strange Little Creatures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> High School AU
> 
> The pupils of München Comprehensive are deep into the everlasting winter term, boredom set in a long time ago, and now school seems to be the most hated place on the planet. But this doesn't strictly mean that nothing eventful ever happens...
> 
> Welcome to München Comprehensive, would you like a piece of rope to go with that chair?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Andre and Mario have a reality check, well, more of a ego boost for Andre.
> 
> Miro and Mats get deep.

“Alright...Alright, I’ll do it!” Andre practically screamed down the phone at Marco, starting to lose his patience with the  _whining son of a bitch_. He turned the corner, his phone pushed up against the space between his shoulder and ear, as he struggled to light another cigarette. It was his fifth of the day, and although he usually smoked more, the amount he’d smoked in the little amount of time was completely different, but, what could he say? Marco was stressing him out. And when Andre was stressed, Andre needed to smoke, after all, it was a relaxer. “Now, will you stop harassing me?”

There was a sigh on the other end of the line, a sigh of almost content from Marco. “Yes, that’s all I wanted.” The blonde said it as if he was Andre’s mother.

Andre himself roll his eyes, trying to ignore it and not snap back. “I was going to do it Marco, you didn’t have to pester me. I know how much this means to you, blah blah blah, and all that other gay assed shit.”

“Very sentimental of you Andre, thank you.” Marco dead toned voice, expressed just how much he took that as a heartfelt one on one talk with his best friend, that didn’t quite get the meaning of being sincere in any sense of the word. “Anyway, you better do it, because I’m already sat here waiting and I’m not being stood up, plus-” There was a gulp and slurp from Marco, before he carried on. “My ice creams melting.”

“Well, I’m not surprised you’re slurping it down like it’s a-” Andre was in the middle of making a crude homophobic joke that knew would frustrate Marco, but he stopped short in his words and where he was, when he saw the small figure of Mario, walking along the road, making him smirk. “Listen, I gotta go now, so yeah, bye, see you later.”

Before Marco could even get a word in the, the line was dead and the dull monotone sound of the buzz was all he could here. With a sigh and shake of his head, Marco dug back into his peanut butter cup ice cream quickly, y’know, so it didn’t melt and turn into more of a cream, that an ice cream. Hoping that Andre was reliable enough to do what he had initially planned to do. But now that he thought of it, when had Andre ever been reliable and kept to his word? Okay, on special, exceptional occasions, but was this dilemma Marco was enduring ‘exceptional’ enough for Andre?

All Marco could do was hope. That was the only thing he had left right now.

Meanwhile, after rudely hanging up on the middle of a rather ingenious joke from himself, Andre- found himself ‘jogging’ towards the boy in question, the one in the middle, the dickhead who acted like a typical jerk you would find in any American high school film. In other words, Mario. Whose head was covered with a black beanie, covering his ears and trademark hair, most of his body covered in a thick winter coat, gloves and probably several pairs of socks, give how cold it has gotten. The only thing that gave away the younger one to Andre was that bag, the Bayern Munich one. Andre made a face at the sight of the bag, but he immediately knew who the bag belonged to and now he was chasing his tail, trying to keep up with the boy without scaring him or cornering him. But, didn’t that seem just a tad perverted?

_Eh, who cares._ Andre shrugged to himself.

He watched as Mario took a shortcut through a back alley, and Andre thought it would be better to go the other direction, so he could come around, not corner him, just...ask him out for ice cream. He waited until Mario disappeared around the corner and made a quick dash around the other way, the longer way.

When he got there, his breath visible in the thick december freeze, he frowned when he looked down the alley and saw no Gotze in sight, which, in his books, didn’t really add up. Andre took a puff of his cigarette before dropping it to the ground and stamping out the bud of it with his shoe. His frown deepened, looking around, utterly confused about where Mario could have gone. He had to find him, otherwise Marco would get annoyed because this was essentially Andre’s plan and he did offer to help his best mate out for the sake of his happiness, because, you know, he’s just that kind of person. So, he couldn’t really give up, no matter how cold it was and how stupid it was to go and get ice cream on a day like this. _What was I thinking of getting ice cream, in December, when it was this cold?_  

“What are you doing Andre?” That voice made him jump and Andre held onto his chest as he faced the person, only to be greeted with the unamused face of Mario, the angry brunette.

Trying to maintained his innocence, Andre’s eyes dashed from side to side, as his eyebrows furrowed together. “What do you mean?”

Mario sighed, crossing his arms. “Don’t play games with me Andre, I know you’ve been following me, so, I’m asking, why you’re doing it?” The blonde shook his head, shrugging and soon, through the silence came a chuckle from the younger boy. “Oh I get it,” Mario scratched his face, looking up at the taller blonde, in amusement, but a type that Andre didn’t associate with happiness, but probably the polar opposite of that. “Marco set you up to this didn’t he? Sent you to follow me around, see what I’m doing, like a little stalker.” He fumed, and Andre was in total disbelief of what he was hearing. “Look, tell him, that; what happened and what he said happened, is two completely different things and two completely different people, who have different preferences in life, and one of them is not to be kissed by a guy and stalked by his best friend, got it?”

Andre’s eyebrow shot up as he heard this kid natter on about, something so ridiculous, he actually thought it was insane enough to be true. Andre glanced down at his feet, stuffing his frost bitten, red fingers, into the pockets of his school trouser as he looked back out, and after a couple seconds of staring at the irate boy, giving his response to the load of nonsense.

“You know, I really don’t know what Marco see’s in you, I really don’t.”

Mario frowned, shocked by the response. “What?” Those thick, darkened eyebrow knitted perfectly together.

“I mean…” Andre clicked his teeth, leaning against the wall with folded arms. “For one, yeah sure, you’re handsome-ish, young, fresh faced, athletic, short… naive and just...really really dumb.” If the first statement by Andre didn’t make Mario shocked enough, well this one certainly did, and Andre couldn’t help but let out a little half smirk from getting that reaction. “You have to be, to know that, what you’ve just said, is the dumbest thing, I’ve ever heard. Not only that, but it just proves, how little you know about Marco, because, he’s the last person to do such a thing, to lie about something, to lie about his feelings.”

“And what makes you think that you do?” Mario defended, puffing his chest out to act intimidating.

Though, it was like a deer coming up against a lion, there was no match, in the slightest. With a smirk, Andre swiftly leaned forwards, towering over Mario, and gently whispered. “Because I’m his friend.” Simply winking, making Mario tut. “And you know what friends do? They listen. And you know what you did?” By this time, the patronising tone in Andre’s voice was enough to turn Mario’s cheeks redder than they were from the coldness, and he was considering just walking away, telling Andre where to go. But he never, he stayed, he listened and he didn’t speak a word. “You kissed him, humiliated him and shamed him, before running away and not dealing with your own problem that you created.”

In all honesty, Mario was speechless, because he knew what Andre was saying true. Mario did kiss him back and he did it because he wanted to, because he enjoyed it and enjoyed Marco’s company. Though, he freaked out, not because what he parents thought of his feelings, but he was afraid himself. He was still young, and naive, like Andre said; he just had to stop making excuses.

“Are you done yet? With this whole ‘blame Mario’ saga?” Thing was, Mario didn’t like Andre, and Andre didn’t like Mario, so what was the point in all of this? There wasn’t, in Mario’s mind, not even after that ‘amazing’ speech. Andre raised his eyebrow. “Good, guess, I’ll get going shall I?” He pulled at the straps of his backpack. “And this time, alone.”

The small brunette went to push past the tall figure of the blonde, but was easily stopped, making Mario easily annoyed. “Not quite.” Andre started. “How about, me and you go get a coffee?”

Mario quickly burst out laughing. Obviously he was joking, there was no way Andre was being serious on that one, they hated each other, now anyway. “After what you just said to me? You must be dreaming mate. I’m not going anywhere with you, ever.”

He went to walk past again, though, was stopped but a push back in the chest. “Yeah I am being serious Mario. Listen, lets get some ice cream, or something savoury, pretzels maybe?” Mario’s ear perked up at the sound of that delicious savoury snack. He loved pretzels, they were his favourite and he wanted so badly to go to that shop at the mall and buy some, stuffing his face with them. Instead though, the boy refrained, shaking his head and laughing.

“Bribing me with food now are we? What did you use to bribe Marco to be your friend?”

“Ice cream… but that’s not the point.” Andre shrugged, nonchalantly. “All, I’m asking is that we sit down and chat, so you can tell me your side of it all.”

Mario raised his eyebrow. “Why would you, you clearly agre-”

The constant back chat of this kid in front of Andre was starting to grind on him, and now, he decided it would be easier just to bring the boy against his will. at least that way, they were actually moving and not stood in the middle of some foreign street, freezing his ass off, and at risk of getting frostbite in his toes. Thus, grabbing Mario’s jacket, he started to pull him along the road. “Right that’s it, I don’t care if you don’t like it, you’re coming with me and that’s final. No arguments, no chatting back. I’ll pay, now shut it.”

“You’re a-”

“Shut it Gotze!” Andre pushed him forwards, widening his eyes. “You’re coming with me and that’s final.” He smirked as soon as the boy’s back was turned. Well, he did do as Marco asked, not in the most conventional way, but he got the job done. _Marco better appreciate this._

\---

Dusk had pretty much disappeared and even then Mats didn’t even fathom going home, even if it was a school night. Being at the skatepark at this time of night was more fun than any other time. The flood lights were on, illuminating the place, as if it was a night game at the football. The only subtle difference there was, was between the concrete of the skatepark to the grass of the football field. However, that didn’t mean that the skatepark was worse off, even with the graffiti covering every inch of it; the bowl, half pipe, launch ramp, spine and even the wall to ramp. The skate park at night was beautiful, electric, even in the winter, where the sides iced over, making it more dangerous. That still didn’t stop Mats from coming here.

He loved skateboarding as much as he loved his motorbike. His cousin, Millie, had got him into it at a young age, and he had just carried on from there. It was fun, easy. fast paced and an adrenaline rush - especially when the tricks went right.

Tonight though, Mats wasn’t skateboarding, instead, he was sat up against the railings at the stop of one of the ramps, with Miroslav, sharing his last bag of weed. They were now the only ones in the park, it was past ten, most people had gone back home due to their parents curfew, or because they were bored. Leaving thing 1 and thing 2, to enjoy a nice joint in the freezing December weather.

Mats inhaled the potent drug, his eyes already drooping from its effect, as he blew the smoke from his nose, amused by his own actions. The pair were silent, the only sound you could here was the odd car passing by the place, but even that didn’t really deter the pair of them from their relaxation time. The curly haired brunette passed the joint over to the senior, who wasted no time in following Mats actions, leaning his head back against the railings and up at the clouded night sky after the smoke evaporated.

Miro couldn’t help the sigh that came from him, after all he was confused about a certain Muller named individual who was really starting to get on his nerves, even if the poor boy wasn’t doing anything wrong. Well, technically, to Miro he was doing something wrong; he wasn’t being himself and that annoyed the senior more than he thought.

Rubbing a hand over his face, Miro glanced over at Mats, surprised to see a perplexed, unfocused glint in his eye. At first, Miro hypothesised that it was just the effects of the weed, however, the more he stared at his friend, the more he thought to himself that maybe it isn’t? Mats was giving off signs of stress, signs that Miroslav had never really seen from the brunette before. Mats had a laid back approach to life in most things he did, even when it came to his personal life, it tended to be the ‘one night stander’, not the ‘commitment’. So, seeing Mats’ have such a subtle look to him, made Miroslav conclude that something was up with his friend.

On the other hand though, Miro was itching to say something, anything, so his friend wasn’t his first priority right now.

“Hey Mats…” Miro chirped up, after passing the remains of the spliff back to him. A hollow hum from the brunette allowed Miro to carry on with his question, knowing that Mats was giving enough of his attention for him to listen, well hopefully anyway. “Do you know a Thomas Muller?”

The former frowned at the latter's name, sure that he had heard a name similar to that before. Keeping silent for a moment or so, the boy took one last puff of the spliff, pulling a funny face and flicking the bud away. _Thomas Muller..._  Mats had heard that name, especially the first name, a lot of times before, but right now, he was finding it difficult to pinpoint it exactly. “Um…” He blew the smoke from his mouth, still thinking, when suddenly, he remembered, it clicked where he heard that name being said, or more like shouted; Benedikt - _For fuck sake Thomas, will you learn how to eat quietly!_  The oh so familiar shout rang out in Mats’ head and all he could do was smirk at the feeling it brought him. Mats kept that half stoned smirk on his lips, not from the effects of the drug - well maybe partially - but for the reason that seemed simple to him; Benedikt and his angered ways. There was something so refreshing, risqué and seductive about Benedikt’s attitude in general, but when it was directed at Mats, well, it just seemed to get that much more arousing.

“Well?” Miroslav pushed his friend, clicking his fingers in front of his face, upon seeing that Mats seemed to be in a world of his own.

Mats shook his head, blinking his eyes, before he finally got to answering Miro’s question. “You mean the lanky, skinny fuck? Dark hair, always gets shouted at by his friends and never knows how to shut up, Thomas Muller?” Miro frowned and nodded his head silently. “Yeah, what about him?”

All of a sudden, Miroslav really didn’t feel like he had made the right decision by trying to console his friend on the matter that this boy, Thomas Muller, seemed to be scared of him. His palms were now sweaty as he rubbed them together, which was surprising given the ice coldness of the weather for this time of year.

Miro coughed slightly, shrugging his shoulders. “Well...it’s just...well, I think he’s scared of me.” Seconds after Miroslav said that, all that filled his ears was the bellowing laughter for the brunette beside him, holding his stomach as he laughed. This aggravated Miro, he didn’t understand how what he said had any ounce of humour about it. It was a serious question, one that had been bothering him for so long now, he really didn’t understand that boy and why he was so different around him that any other person. “What’s so funny?” Miro questioned but Mats waved a dismissive hand at his friend as he continued laughing, hitting his head against the bar behind him. “Seriously? Stop laughing Mats!” He slapped the boy's chest, pouting his lips like a petulant little child.

Mats was still trying to catch his breath when he answered, his stomach hurting from how much he had laughed in the past few minutes. “Of course he’s scared of you!” That surprised Miroslav, and he widened his eyes, his heart pounding against his chest. _Am I really that much of a monster?_  He thought to himself as Mats continued, chuckling at the look on the seniors face. “What I mean is...you’re Miroslav Klose, captain of the football team, head boy, one of the most popular pupils at the school, who hangs around with his little posse, being loud, and you think people aren’t scared of you?”

“Well they shouldn’t be.” His eyebrows knitted together in confusion, how was he scary for being all those things?

Mats rolls his eyes, sitting himself up properly. “Well they are, you’re an intimidating guy, even though you don’t think you are. Heck, I was even intimidated by you before we became friends. I mean, all the teachers love you, all the girls love you and confidence just radiates of you, of course people are going to take a step back when you’re near them. You’re Miroslav Klose for fuck sake!” The brunette laughed, heartedly, the obvious effect of the weed, making his heartedly laugh seem more of a half hearted on, but nonetheless. “That, and you mother is a really scary woman sometimes.”

The last statement, made something click in Miro head and he looked at his friend in a curious way. “Thomas does have lesson for my mum, playing the piano…” He thought aloud, making Mats aware.

The latter looked up from checking his phone. “Well that’s probably half the problem, with your mum teaching him piano, she scared the shit out of me when I first met her.”

“Yeah, but, he’s been having lesson from my mum for years now.”

Mats rolled his eyes at his friend, sighing as he locked his phone, now paying total attention towards Miroslav. “Why are you so interested in what Thomas thinks or does around you anyway?” He tilted his head to the side, and Miro knew what that meant, frustrating him.

“Shut the fuck up man, it’s not in that way.” He clicked his teeth, crossing his arms over his chest defensively. “I’m just intrigued that’s all, I mean, he doesn’t seem like the shy type, but when he’s around me he is, he’s clumsy. I mean...the other day, when I went to give his music sheets back to me, he somehow managed to knock himself out on the front doors.”

The brunette shrugged. “I mean, he seems like the clumsy type anyway, but when I’ve seen him with that Benedikt Howedes, person...thing...and that guys always telling him to shut up. It must just be that, he doesn’t like you, he probably thinks you’re going to punch his lights, that why he’s quiet and runs away from you.” Mats smirked, letting a second of silence fall between them. “Or...he has a crush on you.” He winked, Miroslav’s face a picture.

Miroslav scoffed, letting out an uneasy chuckle. “Oh, there is no way in hell that that guy has a crush on me. I mean...why would he?” With a pfft coming from Miroslav’s lips, and a gulp following suit.

Turning face on to the senior, Mats closed the proximity between the pair of them, challenging him. “Oh please, like you haven’t thought about it before. It’s a possibility that something like that can cause Thomas’ behaviour. I mean, you a handsome guy!”

“First of all, thank you. But, I hardly doubt that’s the truth.” Miroslav assertively told him, nodding his head as if to dismiss it all. However, Mats did have a point, a small point. It wasn’t the first time Miroslav had thought about that, he means, thomas displayed all the right signals for it to be a crush. The clumsiness, the quietness, the nervousness, all telltale signs of a crush. Though, Miro had pushed that thought straight to the back of his head the first time he thought about it, like he was now, there was something more to Thomas than meets the eye, and Miro could tell, all he wanted to know now, was what. “Anyway, enough tormenting me...let’s torment the tormentor.” He wiggled his eyebrows mischievously.

Growling in annoyance, Mats dropped his head back, hitting it against the metal bars of the stand. He never looked forward to being humiliated and tormented by anyone, most of all Miro, bar his family. Miroslav, somehow, knew Mats’ weak points, which just made things, that more frustrating. “Do we have to?”

Miro cockily nodded his head before falling silent. Mats knew it was coming any time soon and he held his breath until it finally did. “So what about you, Mr Hummels, is there someone you’re keeping your eye on? A certain someone who's caught your attention…?” Miro started, raising his eyebrow.

Mats raised his eyebrow back, before shaking his head and facing the rest of the night fallen skate park. “Nope.” He was blunt and straight to the point, no messing around, no ly- _oh wait, of course I was lying._  

The taller boy next to him chuckled to himself, licking his lips in preparation. “Are you sure?” He pestered a little more and Mats merely gave a single nod of his head. Miroslav already could tell he was lying, because, he knew, but right now, it was time to torment the boy, the bluntness would come later, or in a matter of seconds. “Like really, really sure?” Another nod of the head from the brunette confirmed everything. “That’s funny…” He said, pulling at the material of his jeans. “Because, I know that, right now, you’re lying...I know there’s someone Mats, I can see it in your eyes...and I’ve seen it for myself.”

Miro watched as Mats’ Adam’s apple moved up and down quickly in a gulping action and his smirk grew bigger. Mats’ heart was starting to pound now and he was sure the vein in his neck was sticking out from his nervousness. “Seen what?” He laughs, but not one that oozed confidence. “I don’t know what you’re talking about Miro...so ju-just drop it yeah?”

However, it didn’t seem like the head boy was going to drop something this big right now, oh no, he was just going to keep on tormenting this poor boy’s soul, destroying him one inch at a time, with one name. “Benedikt Howedes.” He whispered into his ear, which initially made the by flinch. “And don’t you deny it.”

Now Mats was really in the shit, he was torn between trying his damn right hardest to deny it or straight out agreeing, however, either way made him look like a fool, one a bit more than the other. He twitched, his fingers nervously drumming along the surface of this kneecap as his eyes scattered every which way but to Miroslav sat ever so close to him. He didn’t want to give up on his fight, but it was a fight he was going to lose because he knew that Miroslav was right. That name, Benedikt Howedes, sent shivers down his spine whenever it was mentioned. The hairs on the back of his neck stood to attention, he got goosebumps, and he knew it was starting to get slightly unhealthy, the way he was acting towards it all.

There was a split second of pride to carry on from Mats, but one look into the piercing eyes of Miroslav and all that disappeared. Mats groaned, slumping his shoulders. “Fiine, fine, you got me! B-but, how did you know?” He pouted, disheartened.

Miro chuckled, patting Mats’ shoulder. “Let’s just say, you’re not the most subtle of guys.” Mats groaned again, this time, more petulant than anything. “But answer me this...Benedikt Howedes?...Really? The straight A’s psychopath with an attitude and anger problem? Really?”

Mats face palmed, dragging his hand along his face. “I know, I know...you’re thinking, he’s not my type...but fuck...I just...I don’t know, I really don’t.” He sighed, frustrated with himself as he let his head once again drop against the bar, this time looking up at the overcast sky, only able to make out minimal stars.

“When did you first, well, y’know?” Miroslav questioned, intrigued.

The boy offered a shrug of the shoulders. “I don’t know...it might have been when he bumped into me, or when I nearly run him over.” Mats said casually, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s just, I think it’s just his attitude, I mean, he’s not the shyest of people, let's just say that. And when he knocked into me, I wasn’t expecting him to be so cocky and in my face, the same with the other incident. It’s like he doesn’t give a shit, you piss him off and you’ll have it right back in your face.” He sighed, taking a moment to think. “You know, I really think that that guy hates me.”

“Really? And what gave that away, the fact that you nearly ran him over or that he stood up to you?” Miro quizzed, the evident sarcasm in his voice, obviously not detected by Mats given his net answer.

“I’m not really sure…” He frowned, tossing his phone in his hands. “But it’s hot as fuck, I’ll tell you that.” He also didn’t see the exasperating roll of the eyes from Miroslav after that comment. Just then Mats turned to Miroslav seeing the disapproving look upon his face which made him curious. “What?”

“You know, sometimes, you can be one of the dumbest smart person, I’ve ever met.” Mats reaction was to pout at that, and cross his arms, acting offended, thought it didn’t really work for Miro, he just tutted and then focused his attention on something else, someone else. Yes, of course it was Thomas, he was still trying to digest what Mats had said and still trying to draw his own conclusions that were more realistic tan Mats, at the same time, but so far, all he had accomplished was, well, nothing. He was too busy tormenting Mats to even want to think about that lanky dark haired fuck, no matter how frustrating he was as an individual, tormenting Mats was always more fun. Half the time, the guy was too stupid to know how funny he was doing. The guy had brains, but he sure did lack a lot common sense.

Mats on the other hand, was smirking to himself, his hands behind his head and legs cross, thinking about how angry Benedikt could get and aroused by it Mats’ could get. He then turned to his friend who seemed to be in the same mind space as him. “You wanna go fuck?” The boy offered, casually shrugging his shoulders. Miroslav only smirked and they both headed over to his car.

\---

Marco sat irritatedly, his legs bouncing up and down against the floor, licking the remnants of his second ice cream cup, constantly checking his watch and sighing. The second flavour was mint choc chip, an old childhood favourite of Marco’s, so many times he could remember having it on holiday as a child. Once the cup was completely empty, he put it on the table, with the little blue plastic spoon with it, before leaning back against the red coloured leather bench he was sat in.

The blonde’s eyes were glued to the door of the shop, wishing and wanting the two idiots to walk through there. However, right now, it didn’t seem like they were going to show up at all and Marco was starting to get frustrating with it. _Andre said he’d help me out, and all he’s proving to be is a hinder._

He was sure he had been here for little over two hours now. He had came here straight after school, not wanting to waste any more time. The workers in the shop were starting to give him unusual looks and he could understand why. Hardly anyone stayed for two hours, eating ice cream by their self, more so, when it was winter time.

_What was Andre thinking, a fucking ice cream parlour, was he fucking crazy? In this weather?_  

Although, on thinking that to himself, Marco noticed an unusually high amount of people entering the shop to buy ice cream and dessert cakes and pastries from the shop, so maybe it wasn’t the most crazy idea. Plus, they serves hot drinks here too, and Marco was slurping on his piping hot caramel mocha right now. He hummed as the hot liquid hit the back of his throat, burning his tube, yet in an enjoyable way, a way that reminded him of Christmas, he means, it was that time of year.

As he was doing that though, he heard the sound of the bell ringing, meaning another customer had entered. There was little hope that it was Andre and Mario, but he figured, he’d open his eyes and take a glance anyway. And to his surprise… _Oh, no wait...scrap that_  ...

It was Philipp and Manuel. The two boy gave Marco a smile and a wave before heading to the counter, which the latter reciprocated, a little disappointed.

Marco sighed, though, as he did, the bell dinged once again and this time, he wasn’t disappointed, in fact, with the reality facing him, he felt dread and nerves. Because, as he looked up, he saw his blonde friend Andre, being followed in by a smaller brunette figure that was unmistakable. He scrambled to his feet, gulping and looking stunned as he looked at the both of them, as if he wasn't even expecting to see them and now that they, and most importantly, Mario, was in front of him, he didn’t have a clue on what he was doing.  

Mario was just as shocked to see Marco there as Marco was seeing Mario there, but for two completely different reasons. Mario had no idea that this, so-called ‘coffee with Andre’, included Marco, and to be honest, Mario was pissed off. “You didn’t tell me Marco was going to be here.” He muttered through gritted teeth at the tall blonde, who was flippant about it.

“Oh, I didn’t mention that?” Andre said, smirking at the younger boy who shook his head. “It must’ve skipped my mind.”

The shrug of the shoulders from the older boy just about did it for Mario, he could feel his angry heading to his face, heating up, and he didn’t care how stupid he looked right now, because anger out ruled everything else. “Right, that’s it, I’m leaving.” Mario surrendered himself, making his way to the door to exit, when Andre grabbed his elbow and pulled him forcefully.

“You’re not leaving Gotze.” Andre warned.

“Oh yes I am.” He growled back, trying to pull away. It made Andre chuckle that a boy younger than him believed that he was stronger, but Andre put that right as he yanked the small boy back. “Andre, let go.” He said even lower, trying to gain attention, but it was too late for Mario, he could see Marco’s teary eyes tearing into him, watching him. “You’re making me out to be a fool, who, who you think that will just sit down and apologise for what I’ve done for him. You planned this all along, I can’t believe I’ve been so stupid to believe you, I know you don’t like me one piece but I went out on a limb to come here to talk to _you_  not  _him._ ” He nodded the way of Marco, who was still intently watching.

Andre sighed, pulling the brunette closer and squeezing his arm tighter. “Yeah maybe I don’t like you and yeah, maybe I did deceive you, but I’m doing this for Marco, my best friend. He wants to talk to you so I offered my help because I care about him, unlike you and your selfish ways. So I think you should do the humane thing, such up your pride and go over there and work things out, got that?”

Andre was shocked at the level of aggressiveness he put into that, just as much as Mario, whose eyes became so wide and scared, like Bambi, that it scared him into doing right thing. And as Mario nodded, heading over the way of where Marco was waiting nervously, Andre came to realise that that burst wasn’t out of anger for the little brunette, however, for how much Andre’s friendship with Marco was important to him. Marco was Andre’s first, real, close friend and Andre cared for him, more than he ever knew by helping his friend out in this way. He started to feel that Marco was even more than just a friend, he was more like a brother. Andre cared for Marco in the same way he cared for his mother and father, it was an unconditional, platonic love, for the blonde.

Andre watched from afar, watching as the both boys sat down, and he really did hope that the pair of them could work this out. Which was only strengthened when he saw Marco look his way and give an appreciative smile, his way, making Andre feel as though he had actually done something right for once. It made Andre feel good about himself, boosting his egotistical side, just that much more - not that it needed boosting anyway, it was big enough as it was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, yes, after 109 days away - which I apologise about - I'm back!
> 
> I know I've been away for ages, but I've had a very busy couple of months. First with the exams, sorting out uni for next year, then looking for a job, and I have be honest, I fell out of love for writing this a bit. But, now I am back in the writing and with a good chapter, that I hope you loved.
> 
> And another will around soon - maybe a week or so, depending how long it takes me to write.
> 
> I have the year off, which I'll be working 24 hours a week, but I'll still find time :)
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoyed this chapter! Don't forget to leave kudos and comments! 
> 
> X


	12. Slowly Falling Back Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> High School AU
> 
> The pupils of München Comprehensive are deep into the everlasting winter term, boredom set in a long time ago, and now school seems to be the most hated place on the planet. But this doesn't strictly mean that nothing eventful ever happens...
> 
> Welcome to München Comprehensive, would you like a piece of rope to go with that chair?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marco and Mario talk things through.

Nothing had been said between the two of them, and ten minutes had already passed. Marco had already tried offering the boy something; a coffee, hot chocolate, maybe some ice cream, but he turned his nose up at every one. Making one comment about it was too cold and stupid to have ice cream, making the blonde glance down at his two empty bowls and clear his throat. Apart from that? Nitch. Nada. Nothing at all.

And yeah, of course it was starting to frustrate Marco, he had been pushing himself to say something throughout the time Mario had been sat there like a petulant little child, however, he always fell short, and came out with some small talk rubbish that made no sense was not even relevant. He wasn’t the only one to blame though, Mario could have opened his mouth as well, it was big enough, but the kid was being silent and that was the way it was looking. Arms crossed across his chest, looking anywhere but where Marco sat. The older boy, lanced behind Mario to where Andre was sitting on his phone, sprawled over on of the sofa’s, not even bothering to check on Marco and Mario.

_Fuck sake Andre…_ Marco cursed his best friend, he really needed help right now, he didn’t know what to do right now, he’d never been in this position before, especially with a guy. Of course, he had been in this situation with plenty - _a handful_  - of girls in the past, but they were easy to convince. All he had to do was bullshit about how much he loved them and that he’d do anything for them, buy them a gift, and pretend that he’s listening to everything they say. Though, something told him that a guy, was completely different. With a guy, it wasn’t about revealing your emotions so much as hiding them, and hiding who you are.

Marco believed that Mario was doing exactly that; hiding who he really is. Because, he knew, that no person would kiss someone with much passion and for that long, then act like they have the next day. Sure, he could account times when he’s regretted kissing people, however the young brunette mannerisms had completely changed, and that’s what scared Marco the most. It was as  if, in the snap of the fingers, Mario had become this completely different person, so unrecognisable to Marco.

This boy, sat in front of him, was the Mario he had know and grew to love, he was like no one he had ever met before.

Mario in the other hand, wanted to leave, he had wasted enough time being dragged halfway around the place by _the dickhead_ Andre, but now, it was only made worse by the fact that he had to sit here, opposite Marco, for all this time, and Marco hadn’t even bothered talking to him, apart from offering to buy him something to drink and eat.

_What was the point in this?_ Mario thought to himself. _Because all this is about is humiliating me and making me look like a bad guy._

The brunette stared at the wall behind where Marco was sat, occasionally glancing down at the older boy to see what he was doing and why he hadn’t spoken first, it was his problem to fix after all. However, as Mario was glancing at the boy, he found himself start to admire him again, the silence seemed to be taking the anger away and the blame away from Marco all of a sudden, because when all the talking and the bitching, and the hatred had been taking away, all was left was Marco, silently sat there, not even knowing the younger boy was watching him, admiring him. From the dark ginger, blonde highlighted, quiffed hair, to the crooked smile and thin, pink lips, everything was perfect, even those long blonde eyelashes that heightened the beauty of his eyes.

And as Mario sat there, looking at the blonde, he questioned why he was angry with this man in the first place. Where had all the anger come from towards him? Mario was now, not too sure, he was now starting to question if Marco had actually done anything wrong in the first place, he means, the kiss was innocent enough, and it wasn’t like he didn’t enjoy it, because he did...boy he did.

Nevertheless, the moment Marco looked passed Mario - who swiftly turned his head away - he knew why he was angry; Andre. Andre had been at the forefront of all this, since Marco had told him, and he was just making things worse, blowing things out of proportion. He was trying to help, but by doing that, he was being a hinder, he was like the third wheel, and everybody them. All Mario wanted, deep down, was for everything to be sorted out between the pair of them, yes he wanted apologise, but he also wanted an apology, but none of that seemed to be getting done with Andre in the picture. The guy was just making everything harder and awkward.

Mario gulped, breathing out as he sat up in his seat and leant forward with his hands clasped together. “Listen,” He stared, and Marco was surprised to see the person talking to be Mario himself, as if he was expecting someone else to be making the first move in this awkward altercation. “Whatever you want to discuss, I’d rather do it somewhere else than a in a fucking ice cream parlour, with you possy looking over my shoulder, alright?”

“Uhh...um, okay...” Marco gulped, his eyes guttering. “W-where to then?” The brunette shrugged his shoulders at the question.  _Anywhere far from Andre._ He thought but declined to say. “What about my house? M-my parents are working and sisters are out, so it’s uh, it’s empty.”

Mario only nodded and got to his feet, putting his scarf back on, tightly, to keep him warm from the cold weather. Marco followed suit, glancing the way of Andre, whose attention had finally been caught, and frowned in confusion. “Where are you two going?” He confronted the pair eagerly wanting to know, at which Mario rolled his eyes at.

“Anywhere that you aren’t at.” The younger German said before storming out of the shop and waiting outside, impatiently. Inside, he watched as Marco talked to Andre, smiling, and at ease, and all he could think was, how could anyone want to be friends with a guy like that, a scheming guy who claims to have the feelings of others at heart. Mario snarled when the pair of them came out of the shop together, sharing a short hug. “Let’s get going. I haven’t got all day.” Petulantly he made it clear and quickly started off the way of the bus center to catch the next available bus, which he hoped, didn’t keep him waiting.

Marco couldn’t help but roll his eyes as he followed a few footsteps behind.

The bus ride to Marco’s house was tense, the pair of them didn’t utter a single word to each other, too many words were about to be spoken and Marco wanted to keep his voice, but at the same time, he wanted to confront the young boy confidently, which wasn’t working out for him at the moment. Mario had his head pressed against the window, fogged by the cold atmosphere, as he sat drawing patterns in the condensation. His eyebrows were knitted together, not in confusion but because of his anger and how much he felt like getting off the bus and hitting the hell out of Andre. He knew he shouldn’t, but he really wanted to, he wanted to make him bleed.

Soon though, the bus stopped and the boy next to him got to his feet, it was only then he realised that it was time to get off, which made Mario a little apprehensive, he hadn’t really been in Marco’s house, since, well, what happened, and that was nearly a week ago. Sure a week isn’t that long in time, however to Mario it seemed like years he had been in the same house as Marco, and actually spent time with him, like friends do.

A short walk followed as they exited the bus and for the pair of them, it seemed like everything was dragging on. They were both in a rush to talk, even though it didn’t really look like it, they were, because, for the both of them, there was a lot to say. Still the silence and freezing conditions looking over the two boys.

Though, that was something that soon changed as they arrived at Marco’s house, and when Mario took the first step inside, he was immediately hit by the warm, welcoming feeling that he had always felt when coming to this house. It was just a house that oozed of warmth, from the smell of the beautiful food cooked by Marco’s mother, Manuela, to the sight of the decor, and the boy stood in front of him. It reminded him of his own house in so many ways, and to Mario it had become a home away from home. Had been.

It wasn’t until they sat down, did the talking really start to happen, and first from Marco.

The blonde was sunken into the leather sofa seat, warming up his fingertips as he spoke. “Look Mario, I know you didn’t like that fact that Andre did that to you, and I know you don’t like him one bit, but he is my best friend and he was helping me out.” He said and glanced over that the brunette, perched on the edge of the seat, feeling out of place. Mario only nodded, glancing down at his lap. “And I can understand if you feel humiliated, but I knew this was the only way I could get to talk to you, b-because...uh…” Marco sighed. He didn’t want to admit that he didn’t have the power himself to ask him to talk.

“Because what Marco?” Mario snapped, though he didn’t mean to do so, he wasn’t going to apologise for it. “Because you got Andre to do your dirty work for you.” Sadly and ashamed, Marco nodded his head in response. “You know, I might have not acted this way if you’d had the balls to actually approached me yourself. But, when you get that-bastard-to help...well I lose all respect.”

The last of the younger boy's words, surprised Marco the most, infuriated him, and he found himself rising to Mario’s level of maturity, arguing back. “Respect? You want to talk to me about respect, after how much you’ve humiliated me?” Mario gulped and bowed his head, he knew he had picked the wrong words, when he started. “Yeah, you know what you did Mario and it’s no excuse. You made me feel like I was the worst person in the world that morning, like I had done something so utterly horrifying and unforgivable. That was you.”

“I-I’m sorry…”

Marco breathed out, puffing his chest out and shaking his head as he looked the other way. “Yeah, and I’m Jesus.” He commented sarcastically and glanced back the way of Mario who bowed his head. “Look I don’t want to fight or argue with you, but you’re acting like everything you have done is innocent Mario, and it isn’t, you’ve caused all this because you can’t come to terms with what we did. We fucking kissed, and it wasn’t one minute thing, it went on, yet, the moment you woke up, I was your enemy and I was left alone and embarrassed, not knowing what to do. You might regret what you did, you might be confused about what happened, but I don’t know if you are because you won’t tell me. Instead, you insult my best friend and ignore me. Do you think that is any way to act? No, it’s not.” Marco closed his eyes. “You know how much I loved it, you know that I, think of you more than just a friend Mario...and I’m confused, I don’t know what to do either, but I’m not trying to blame other people.”

By now, Mario had tears in his eyes, but he wouldn’t ley Marco see what he had done to him, he didn’t want to be weak, so he mumbled the truth. “I didn’t regret it…” It was barely audible, so he hoped that Marco heard what he said, and when he looked at the boy, he knew he did by the look on the blondes face. “I panicked, I-I didn’t know what to do when I woke up in your arms the morning after, I was shocked.” He gulped, scratching the back of his neck. “I was scared that my parents would find out about what happened, and shun me, I know how they feel about...about gays...and I just, I didn’t know what to do. I was scared and worried, I panicked and I...I don’t understand why I acted the way I have, I was trying to protect myself, but all I did, was hurt you and push away even more, and I shouldn’t do that to one of my best friends.

_Friends._

That was the only word that stuck in Marco’s mind when the young boy stopped talking. Mario considered them friends and it hurt, because, after what had happened, Marco knew that he couldn’t look at Mario in the same light of that word. However, Marco also became to understand why Mario had acted the way he did, it didn’t mean he consoled that kind of behaviour, but he understood that things weren’t as simple as some people made them out to be in life, no matter what it was.

Some people still held onto the old values of the past, the old attitudes towards a certain gender, a certain ethnic background, a certain event, or even the sexual orientation of a person, and he knew that nothing could be changed in the click of the fingers or the new way people saw life. He also knew that, now more than ever, was when people were starting to be themselves than hiding by a screen of someone who wasn't them, however, what came with that, was the people who struggled to express themselves in the shadow of a society's opinion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's a relatively short chapter, but there is a lot of emotions and morals in this chapter that I want people to pick up on as I go into the rest of the story. It sort of explains how things may pan out for some people and might not for others.
> 
> But for now, that's all a secret.
> 
> Hope you loved it!

**Author's Note:**

> Hiya guys :))
> 
> I'm back! After like a year or two haha. Under a new name MRXI.  
> I now have a new story and got rid of my old one (seductive sinners), sorry to say bu I lost all inspiration for that one. And this one is based around the Germany NT. High School AU, because I find it much more interesting to write ^.^
> 
> Anyway, Kudos and comment your thoughts on the first chapter and if I should continue or not! Ciao x


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